Bloody waters : The student in the bathtub
by mag31
Summary: The beat of her heart pounding in her chest was hurting her. She had been through this before, but this time, she had not been able to fight. Is it really to late? Booth and Brennan have to deal with an angsty case that will change them forever. BB
1. Hot bath

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_**A/N : **__**Yeah I know, I posted a lot today I just took time to finish and post the stories/chapters I had begun. This one will be a multichapter. For the case this story is about, I was inspired by an episode of The Inside. I don't think this show is very famous (I loved it though), but if you saw it, don't worry, it won't help you solve the case. I only kept most of the killer's M.O. I hope you'll enjoy reading!**_

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**Chapter 1 : ****Hot bath**

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_The __pounding of her heart in her chest was hurting her. "I should calm down", she thought. "I have to. Think. Think, think, think." A sob got caught in her throat. "Why? There's nothing I can do." Useless, powerless, was all she was feeling right now, as she couldn't prevent life from flowing out of her. Ironically, she began to realise how precious life was. "Useless, powerless… Maybe this is how I've been felling all my life, even if I wouldn't admit it…" She had been through this before, several times. But this time was different: she had not been able to fight._

_Plop._

_Usually, she appreciated living in peace and quiet. But right now, the silence oppressed her and the sound of her tears breaking the water surface frightened her. Or was it the blood dripping on the floor?_

_Plop_

_Plop_

_Her wrists __were hurting like hell. She would have screamed if she had been able to. But she couldn't._

_Her eyes were__ burning. "Oh, how I wish I could close them for good..." Instead, she was forced to watch the water becoming a darker shade of red. "It's too late now, he won't come." _

* * *

Temperance Brennan closed her eyes and let out a moan. After two hours spent practising martial arts, the hot water was relaxing all the muscles in her body, like soft warm hands caressing every fragment of her skin. A smile of satisfaction spread across her delicate features as she was letting herself falling half-asleep. At first, she didn't hear the phone ringing. Or she didn't want to. She had no intention of leaving the warmness of the bath for the fresher air and cool tiled floor, so she decided to ignore it. But when it rang again, insistently, she reluctantly sat up in the bathtub and grabbed for a towel, grimacing when her feet met the cold tiles. As she was wrapping herself in the fluffy cotton, the phone stopped ringing. Sighing, she walked towards the coffee table and pushed the button of her answering machine.

"_Hey Bones"_, Booth's voice said, _"Look, I know it's Saturday but we've got a case. I know you might be busy and everything but we have a flight leaving in forty-five minutes." _Brennan let out an annoyed sigh._ "I'm on my way to your place, please don't kick my ass when I'll knock at your door." _Booth's voice added teasingly. She couldn't help a smile from breaking through her sulky expression as she imagined Booth's sly grin. "Okay… Whatever you want, you damned charm smile", she whispered to herself.

She was in the bathroom trying to do her hair when she heard the knock on the door._ Dammit, he's already here… _Forgetting she had nothing but a towel wrapped around her bare body she rushed to open the door. "Hey Booth, I wasn't expecting you to be here so..." She frowned as Booth cleared his throat. "What?" And then, blushing under his glare, she realised she was almost naked. Avoiding meeting his glare, she invited him to step in and quickly disappeared into the bathroom.

Booth made himself comfortable on the couch, a smile playing on his lips. It had been worth coming over. He rarely had the occasion of seeing Bones blush. Well, he rarely had the occasion to see her almost naked, as well. He shook his head, silently scolding himself. _Come on, Booth, this NOT something that should come to mind when you're thinking about your partner! _He sighed, tilting his head back. _The line, Booth. The damned line. _

Soon, he heard the door of the bathroom open. "I'm ready, Booth. Let's go." He could see she hadn't even finished drying her hair. "Hey, won't you even offer me a coffee?" he asked teasingly. She looked at him, puzzled. "Are you kidding? You told me we had a flight, if we don't hurry up, we'll miss it!" She ran her hand through her hair, an angry look on her face. "And look, because of you I've got to go out with my hair wet, do you know how cold it…" She stopped when she saw he was laughing, which made her far angrier. "What, Booth?" He walked up to her, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. She was so damn cute when she was angry, he would sometimes provoke her on purpose. "I lied. We're going to Philadelphia. By car. Can I make myself a cup of coffee if I let you dry your hair?"

Sometimes, he was so annoying it was hard not to just slap him. She opened her mouth to let him know how pissed she was, but Booth's charm smile prevented her from telling her mind. Instead, she just sighed, rolling her eyes. "Make yourself at home, Booth…"

* * *

Booth quickly glanced at his partner. She had remained silent since they had reached the freeway. "Hey Bones, are you sleeping?"

She let out a sigh and turned her face to look at him. "Not really. I was just trying to relax."

"Oh… Are you angry? You haven't said a word since we left. If you're mad at me, I can understand, but I'd rather talk about it."

"I'm not angry. I'm just annoyed to be forced to spend the rest of the day in Philadelphia instead of the in warm, relaxing bath I was taking when you called me."

"Look, I can understand that. But uh… remember the night you called me when you were with this boring guy? Remember how cold it was outside, and how this jerk punched my nose? After putting me through that, you could be a little more understanding."

"Okay then…" she said, a satisfied smile stretching across her lips. "We're even."

"Uh? What? No! Hey Bones, that's not fair. This is a case, this is WORK. It's not the same."

She shrugged, a chuckle escaping from her mouth as she was turning her eyes back to the window.

* * *

She was so beautiful. So quiet, so serene. Her half-opened mouth letting him catch a glimpse of her white teeth, her dark blond hair glued to her skull by water. He moved his hand towards her face, but did not touch her. Once they were in the water, and once the blood was flowing, he never touched them. He wanted to but didn't allow himself to. If it was safe, he just stayed there, watching, until their breath would die, as he had done for her, the first one. Except now, he was no longer frightened or sad.

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_**A/N : So, what did you think? I enjoy a lot writing this story, I hope you'll have fun reading it. I also hope I'm improving compared to my first multichapter that could have been better. I'm trying to write more descriptions, to detail the characters' feelings better than I did in the other one. Please review, and tell me what you thought about this first chapter!**_


	2. The girl in the bathtub

_**A/N : **__**I apologize in advance if you see anything weird or nonsense in the way I describe the body, the crime scene. I don't know any cop or forensic anthropologist that could advise me, and I'm just guessing. By the way, I don't own Bones, nor Booth sighs If only I could just own Booth!! And Saint Gabriel's Prep School doesn't exist (at least I hope it doesn't :p).**_

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**Chapter 2**** : The girl in the bathtub**

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"So, where are we going?" Brennan asked.

"Saint Gabriel's Prep School. I don't have a lot of details. We'll be there in twenty minutes."

As his partner wasn't answering, Booth glanced at her, and saw she was pouting. "What?" he asked, frowning.

"Nothing. I was just… thinking… I'll have to cope with you being touchy until we solve this case".

"Wh… What? Why?"

"Because you've got a problem with private schools."

"I don't have a problem with private schools!"

"You can't accept that some people are smarter than others. Remember this case last year, in Hannover Prep School?"

"Yes, well, never mind", he said, an annoyed look stitched on his face.

"See, you already are."

He sighed. "I am already what, Bones?"

"Touchy."

"I'm not touchy! I just… Gee Bones, you really…" He stopped talking, knowing that getting worked up would lead him nowhere. _You don't wanna argue with her, you know you'll regret it afterwards, so just focus on the road and say nothing. _He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. "Never mind."

* * *

Booth parked the SUV in front of the school's main entrance. The headmistress, a woman in her forties, was waiting outside, ashen-faced. She welcomed them and led them to the body, sharing what she knew. "The students have been on vacation for three weeks. Very few of them usually decide to stay here, so we only maintain a minimum of staff during these periods. Some of them have already come back this morning, and this is how the… the body was… found. I'm sorry, it's so…"

Booth looked at her sympathetically, thankful that Bones was managing to keep her mouth shut for once. "We understand, Mrs…"

"Mrs Ruskin. When Brenda Piven came back this morning, she found her roommate in the… You'll see what she found… Holy Mother… this is so horrible…"

"What was the name of Brenda Piven's roommate, Mrs Ruskin?" Booth asked as they were climbing the stairs leading to the first floor.

"Lydia Farrow."

"Could you tell me a little about her please, so that it will be easier for me to identify her?" Brennan inquired.

"Well, Lydia was an 18-year-old African American girl. She was tall but I don't know her exact size, do you want me to check it?"

Brennan gave the woman a small smile. "No, thank you. This will be enough to work with for the moment."

Mrs Ruskin stopped in front of room 107. "The body is here, in the bathroom."

Both partners could see that the headmistress was subconsciously staying far from the door. When they entered the room, they understood that it was not only because of fear. The smell was so bad they had to cover their mouths with their hands. Brennan opened her bag and grabbed a mask which she immediately put on her face before stepping into the bathroom. Putting her latex gloves on, she began to examine the crime scene, while Booth was watching from the door. The body was in the bathtub, submerged in a brown disgusting liquid. Only the knees were protruding from the water. The head had slipped in. Brennan grimaced. This would not help identifying the body.

Booth's gaze scanned the room: bottles of shampoo and perfumed bubble bath, beauty products, two toothbrushes. As far as he could see, there were no traces of a struggle, only a razor blade on the floor, with blood on it. And he noticed consumed candles all around the bathtub. Weird.

Brennan lifted one of the victim's arms to take a look at it, then did the same with the other. "Booth, look at that." She invited him to come up to her.

"Uh… You know, I can see very well from where I am."

She rolled her eyes. "There's another mask in my bag."

"Just tell me what you see, I promise I'll believe you."

She sighed. "Okay, then… Three slash wounds on both wrists. Seems like suicide."

"Wow there! You always yell at me when I jump to conclusions, and look what you're doing? Why would this girl have lighted perfumed candles before killing herself?"

"I said _seems_, Booth. Anyway, how can you tell these are perfumed candles?"

Booth shrugged. "I guessed so."

Barely listening to his answer, Brennan immersed her arms in the thick substance that was presumably water mixed with blood, trying to lift the upper body out of the water, while Booth was watching with a disgusted look on his face.

"The liquid is certainly water mixed with blood. I can't say how much time the body has stayed in here; it could be two or three weeks. See, the skin is all wrinkled and softened by the extended submersion in the liquid. Nearly rotted."

Booth grimaced under the handkerchief he used to cover his mouth. "Yeah, I can see that... And smell it…"

"This is obviously a girl in her late teens. Looking at the hair, I can tell it was dark. But…"

"But what?"

"Given the structure of her face, she was definitely Caucasian. This girl is not Lydia Farrow."

* * *

He had been standing here for over an hour, looking at her. He liked to stay when he could. Watch them, talk to them in his soft, reassuring voice, telling them that he was here and they didn't deserve what had happened to them. The candle lights were making the face of the girl look even paler. It made her look like a fairy, a water spirit. "It's all over now, sweetheart. You'll never suffer again, I swear." The candles smelled so good. For her, he had chosen rose, because it fitted so well her cheeks and lips. There was no sound in the dark, empty apartment, nothing to make him grow nervous. Last time, he had had to leave too early, and he had not been able to do it correctly. He knew her head had slipped into the water, and there was nothing he had been able to do about it. He only hoped she was already gone. Drowning was not the way he wanted them to leave, but sometimes he was nervous and clumsy. _I'm so sorry, Jasmine, sweetheart… I didn't mean it, I swear…_

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_**So, what about this chapter? Thanks for the reviews I got so far, please tell me if you like the beginning of the story. And as I haven't decided all the story yet, you can tell me anything you'd like to happen,**__** maybe I'll be able to write it ;)**_


	3. Scented candles

_**A/N : **__**This chapter will mainly deal with Angela's thoughts about the case. I took less pleasure to write it than the last ones because there are less B/B interactions in it, but it was necessary. At the beginning of the story, I told you I was inspired of an episode of The Inside, mostly for technical details. I used some quotes that helped me for technical explanations (Brennan, Cam and Angela). Once more, I apologize if anything strikes you as nonsense in the technical details, the investigation, or the expressions I chose (I try to use my dictionary intelligently but I'm pretty sure I'm sometimes mistaken and it seems weird to you :p). And once more, I don't own Bones or The Inside.**_

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**Chapter 3**** : Scented candles**

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The noise of the cell phone ringing made him jump. He searched in the pocket of her jacket. The caller ID said "Simon". As he was sitting up, his shaking hands let the cell fall in the water. Dammit. It was time for him to go. Every little noise made him startle. He was growing nervous. He plunged his arm in the water, looking for the phone. But in his precipitation, he clumsily knocked over one of the scented candles, which fell on the floor and set on fire the clothes he had left there. Panic began to invade him. He had to leave the building, quick.

* * *

Angela was in her quiet office, thoughtfully looking at the photos of the crime scene and examining the pieces of evidence in their plastic bags. She had been there for a while, trying to link all the elements. They hadn't identified the girl yet, and it was too early to establish if it was a murder of a suicide. Cam was working on the body, studying whatever she could learn from the flesh, while Hodgins was examining the water and the bathtub. He had already found that the water was mixed with perfumed bubbled-bath and blood. Angela wondered why nobody had reported the girl missing. Someone had been necessarily waiting for her. She hadn't planned to spend the holidays at St Gabriel's, otherwise, the school staff would had noticed she was missing. The artist was trying to understand why she would have killed herself in another room than hers. If it was actually a suicide…

She sighed. It was Sunday morning and she was stuck in the lab, but she didn't care. It was her job to help finding what had happened to this poor girl. Something else was bothering her. A stack of folded clothes had been found on Brenda's bed: a jean, a tee shirt, socks, underwear. Brenda had assured that these were not hers, and she was almost certain they were not Lydia's clothes either. There probably belonged to the victim, as her body had been found naked. As a consequence, they had been packed as evidence. But why bother folding them so carefully? This was part of the answer, Angela thought. Maybe she had planned all this. She had waited for the vacation period. She had chosen this room because she wanted to make these girls in particular feel responsible for her death. She had undressed and had folded her clothes on Brenda's bed, thus pointing her as the main responsible. She had taken her time, making herself at home with scented bubble bath and lighting candles. Or maybe she had entered this room for another reason, and then, all this could look like a serial killer's M.O.

She stretched and decided to stop torturing her mind. As she was drinking a sip of water, something caught her attention in one of the plastics bags. She grabbed it, opened it, and moved it under her nose. The smell of the wax reminded her of something she knew.

"Jasmine!" she cried exultantly, after a moment. "Jasmine-scented candles from Aphelia's!"

She rushed out of her office and made her way towards the lab. "Jasmine!"

When Angela entered her friend's office, a triumphant smile on her face, Booth startled lightly and moved his hand away from Brennan's back.

"Jasmine!"

"What?" Brennan asked, frowning. She turned her head when Angela shook the opened plastic bag under her nose.

"Smell that, sweetie: jasmine."

"Uh… Okay then…" She smelled the perfumed wax and hugged. "Jasmine… yes, maybe."

"These are scented candles. And I know the store they come from."

"But I don't see why that's important for the case, Angela."

The artist shook her head. "I don't know. I'm just saying."

Brennan smiled. "Thank you, though. Cam should be finished with the body soon. Then Zach and I will remove the flesh from the skull and you'll be able to work on the identification."

"Here she is!" announced Cam as she stepped in the office, holding a piece of paper in her hand. "I'm finished with our Jane Doe. Bone people, she's all yours!"

"So, what can you tell us so far?" Booth inquired.

"Three slash wounds on both wrists, no hesitation marks. The cuts on the right arm are deeper, so if we assume she killed herself, she started there and would probably be left-handed."

"She's not." Brennan cut her off. "She's definitely right-handed."

"I said 'if we assume', Dr Brennan. And I've got the proof she didn't do that to herself." Cam replied, handing Booth the piece of paper.

He looks puzzled while reading it. "Uh… Translation?"

Brennan snatched the sheet out of Booth's hands and read it attentively. "It's her tox screen. The medical examiner found Miaced in her system. It's a paralytic sometimes used in surgery."

"It's not an anaesthetic?" Angela asked.

"No. It immobilized her, but she would have felt everything that happened to her." Cam explained.

Angela's eyes grew wide. "Oh my god…"

As a response, everybody remained silent. Even Brennan, who used to keep a neutral, professional expression in all circumstances, began to pale.

* * *

Pacing nervously in the living room, he blinked back some tears. He hadn't slept last night. He was mad about himself. This was NOT meant to happen. He should have folded the clothes earlier, as he usually did. But he wanted so much to stay close to her. Now, because of his stupidity, the media would turn their attention to her. He switched the TV off and threw angrily the remote on the couch before sitting down, holding his head in his hands. If _she_ had been there, she would have calmed him down. She would have caressed his hair and whispered soft words in his ears. She might have sung, too. Her voice was so beautiful, so melodious. He would never been able to forget this voice.

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**Thanks for reading! I'm leaving on vacations in two days, I hope I'll be able to finish chapter 4 before I leave ;)**


	4. Jasmine

_**A/N : **__**Thanks for the encouraging reviews, I'm glad your liking the story so far! I'm so sorry I'm updating so late but I was on vacation. The good new is I've been able to plan at least 10 chapters more. Thanks so much to WriterC who accepted to be my beta. Less grammatical and expression mistakes, I think this will improve the reading! By the way, go right now to her page and read her stories, they are awesome! I'm really flattered to have you as my beta Catherine, you're such an amazing writer!**_

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**Chapter ****4 : Jasmine**

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Jasmine, above all the girls he had helped, would have understood what he was going through. Like him, she had known the pain, the anger, the loneliness. He had seen all this in her eyes. He adored them all, but if he were made to choose, Jasmine would be his favourite. Maybe because of those sad deep eyes and because of the dark hair that was as soft as silk in his memories. He had caressed it and smelled it before it was wet. He hadn't been able to help it.

This thought made him smile. Thanks to him, she was free now.

* * *

It hadn't taken long for Angela to identify the girl. She had compared her sketches to the school directory and one of them was a perfect match with Ashley Porter, 18. Booth hung up the phone. He hated this. Informing parents of the death of their child was the worst. He grabbed the small frame that never left his desk and stared thoughtfully at Parker's picture. _What about me?_ He thought. _What would I do if I lost my child?_

"Are you hungry?"

His partner's voice made him startle and he put the frame down, giving her a glimmer of a smile. "Uh yeah, sure."

Brennan frowned. "Is everything all right?"

He sat up and stepped towards her, sighing. "Yeah, yeah. It's just, you know… I've just talked to Ashley's father."

"Oh…" Brennan said, embarrassed. She was really bad with this kind of situation and it was difficult for her to find the right words. But Booth was aware of this, and he didn't need her to talk, for he was able to guess what she didn't say. That's why he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, led her to the door and changed the subject, feeling happy and relieved to have lunch with her.

* * *

James Porter was a tall, dark-haired man with nice features. Sitting in the interrogation room, he leaned over a picture of his daughter which he was holding with shaking hands.

"We're sorry for your loss, Mr Porter", Brennan said, stepping in. If it hadn't been inappropriate, Booth would have smiled. She was really making an effort dealing with people and her social skills improved every day. In fact, he felt proud that she had apparently decided to learn from him.

"Mr Porter…" The man turned his gaze to Booth who carried on, feeling slightly embarrassed. "I'm sorry I have to ask you this, but why didn't you report your daughter missing?"

It seemed like Porter was expecting the question. "Because she told me she had planned to spend the holidays with friends", he responded with a trembling voice. "She said they had rented a chalet in Vermont. Ashley loved skiing. I didn't expect her to call me when she arrived, she never did that. Actually, she didn't really call me at all. I only saw her during the holidays. But she decided not to spend Christmas with me. It… was too painful for her. Since her mother's death…" he paused, both partners looking at him sympathetically, waiting for him to continue. "We used to be close with each other before, but my wife died last year, and since then, Ashley has become…" The father muffled a sob. "During the summer, she tried to kill herself. When Helen died, I thought we would be able to cope with it, you know, supporting each other. But when she lost her mother, she changed completely. She became withdrawn, dark. I barely recognized her. In any event, she behaved this way when she was at home. Around her friends, it seems she remained the same joyful girl I knew. I realised she was happier when she was far from me and her memories, that's why I decided to let her live her life. I thought she was having fun in Vermont, not that she had decided to end her life again…"

"It was not a suicide, Mr Porter", Brennan let slip. "We have been able to prove that Ashley was murdered."

These words earned her an angry look from Booth and a gaze filled with incomprehension from the father. "What? But I thought she…" Porter didn't end his sentence, as if it was too painful for him to say out loud what had happened to his daughter. "But who? Why?"

Booth lightly shook his head. "We're working on it. I promise you we'll catch him. But to do that, we need you to tell us everything about Ashley: her friends, her boyfriends, her teachers. Anything she could have mentioned about her school. Any trouble she could have been in. Can you do that?"

* * *

Booth and Brennan stepped out of the interrogation room. The father had been very precise about what he knew of his daughter's life. She had tried to hide her sorrow from her teachers and friends, and had kept on studying as she had done before. However, it seemed that she had actually been suffering from severe depression since her mother's death. Apart from that, there was nothing that could suggest a lead.

Booth led his partner through the corridors and stopped in front of a door.

"Ashley's roommate, Lauren Crewe, is waiting here. Would you mind interviewing her?"

"Alone?" Brennan asked, surprised.

"Yeah, alone. Can you handle it? It would save us time."

"Sure!" she replied, grinning. This really meant a lot to her. It meant that he trusted her.

"Okay then, I'm going to interview Brenda Piven. I'll let you know when I'm finished." Booth's hand left his partner's back and he began to walk away from her.

"Booth?" He stopped and turned. "Thank you."

He gave her his charm smile. "You're very welcome Bones."

* * *

Lauren Crewe startled when the door opened. Brennan gave her a light smile and wondered how to help the girl unwind.

"My name is Temperance Brennan, I'm a forensic anthropologist," was all she could think of to begin the conversation.

Lauren was playing nervously with a red curl of her hair, staring at her glass of water. She seemed afraid of what 'forensic anthropologist' could stand for.

"I know this isn't going to be easy Lauren, but I need to ask you some questions."

* * *

Brenda Piven looked terrible, too. Her eyes were puffy and red, and her brown hair was messy.

"Hi Brenda, I'm agent Booth."

"I know who you are. I saw you in Saint Gabriel's."

Booth took a seat.

"I'll never watch CSI again" Brenda added, half-laughing, half-crying. "You always think these kinds of things only happen on television. It's cowardish but I wish… I whish I hadn't come back so early. I wish Lydia had come back before me." And she burst out in sobs.

* * *

"Ashley and I have been roommates since we entered this school", Lauren began. "But her mother died last year in February. Car accident. It was sudden, and I think Ashley never got over it. She did her best not to show it and even her results at school remained unaffected. But I could feel how broken-hearted she was. I could hear her sobbing under the sheets at night, even though she always pretended never to cry and her eyes were red because she lacked sleep."

"Did you know that she tried to kill herself during the summer vacations?"

"No, I didn't know that… Oh my god… But I don't understand… I was told she was murdered."

"She was. Lauren, do you know if Ashley was having trouble with anybody?"

"Not that I know… She's always been friendly and quiet."

"What about the school and its surroundings? Any strange persons or disturbing events that you can recall?"

The girl shook her head.

"Did she have boyfriends?"

"Not this year. She used to date this guy, Ron Graham, for two years. But when her mother died, she dumped him. He was a nice guy, he understood. He was one year older than we were, so he's in university now. He called me in November. He met another girl but he wanted to know how Ashley was doing. He really cared about her. No way he could have hurt her."

"Ashley and I were friends", Brenda said, wiping her eyes. "We've known each other for several years."

"Were you friends with Lydia Farrow and Lauren Crewe?"

She nodded. "The four of us together, always."

"Ashley's father told us that she had planned to spend the holidays in Vermont with friends."

"What? No, that's not what she told us. Lydia's parents own a chalet out there. So we decided we'd join her after Christmas, but Ashley refused to come. She said she wanted to spend some time with her father." She sighed sadly. "I understand now. She had planned to spend Christmas here, alone. Honestly, I'm not surprised. It would have been her first Christmas without her mother."

"Brenda, do you know if Ashley could have entered your room?"

"Ashley and Lauren own a key of our room, Lydia and I own a key of theirs. Some days before we left she borrowed one of my books. Maybe she wanted to bring it back because when I entered my room, before I stepped into the bathroom where… where I saw her… her body… I uh… I noticed the book on my bed."

Booth was about to ask another question when the door slowly opened. Agent Rolland stepped towards him and leaned over him, whispering in his ear.

"Sorry for the interruption, Booth, but I'm pretty sure you'll be anxious to hear this."

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_**A/N : Please tell me what you thought about this chapter. Is the case interesting? Does everything make sense? **__**I promise I'll publish next chapter very soon! Fortunately, I've got some time this week.**_


	5. Rose

_**A/N : **__**Thanks again for the reviews. Fortunately, I'm in a writing mood and I have time this week so I'm updating often. Thanks to my lovely beta too, who's very quick correcting me and who gives me helpful suggestions.**_

* * *

**Chapter ****5 : Rose**

* * *

Brennan was sitting at Booth's desk, settled cosily in his armchair, a mug of coffee in one hand, a pen in the other, jotting down notes about her conversation with Lauren.

"Make yourself at home, Bones", said Booth, stepping into his office with a smile.

"At least _I _don't sit with my feet on your desk!" she retorted, gathering her notes.

"Hey! My shoes were clean!" he defended himself.

"Where were you by the way? I'd been waiting for you for so long I went to interrogation room number 6, but I didn't find you there."

"Yeah, sorry for that, but we may have a new case linked to Ashley Porter's death. There was a fire in a building in the centre Saturday night. The firemen reported five slightly injured people, including a child, but no dead, until they examined the place where the fire had started and noticed a body in the bathtub. The victim is assumed to be Beth Collins, 26. She lived alone in the apartment. The firemen found wax around the bathtub and on the floor. They assumed that a dropped candle could have been the origin of the fire. I want to examine some pieces of evidence from the scene and confirm the ID of the body."

"I don't understand why we have to do that", Brennan replied with annoyance in her voice. "A lot of women like to take baths surrounded by candles, it's relaxing. She could have moved clumsily, slipped, and hit her head, simultaneously knocking over a candle which fell onto a towel or a cloth on the floor. It could be nothing but an accident."

"Wow there Bones, I'm not saying we are dealing with a murder. I'm just saying, you know, a dead body, a bathtub, candles…"

"Your guts, uh?" she assumed, rolling her eyes.

"Pretty much yeah." He proudly handed her an envelope. "And these pictures." She sighed but took it and looked carefully at the pictures. After a moment, she gave them back to Booth, shaking her head. "I don't see anything in these pictures that could suggest a murder."

"Look at them again then! There are disconcerting similarities with the crime scene at Saint Gabriel's."

"What?" she retorted, half-laughing. "How can you see anything, the room burned out!"

"But look at the body Bones! Her head and her neck are burned, not the other parts of her body, like she wasn't able to get out of the water to escape!"

"In my scenario, she hit her head, remember? She could even have fallen asleep and get asphyxiated without even noticing it, Booth. The floor, the water and the body are covered with ashes and debris, we can't see anything." She stared into his eyes, waiting for him to find another argument, but Booth gave up.

"Okay, let's say it's more about my guts than the pictures."

A victory smile spread across her lips. "So I win, right? You admit you were jumping to conclusions again?"

"I'm not admitting to anything Bones, you'll win if you prove it was an accident."

"You're incredible Booth!" She almost squeaked out. "There's nothing here, we even know who the victim is. Why should I waste my time on this case?"

He gave her his charm smile. "Please, Bones. Please."

"Don't try to use this on me, it will not work."

"Please…" he said with an imploring look.

Brennan sighed. "Okay, okay. I'll take a look at it."

"Thanks. We'd better hurry up then", he said, grabbing her things and leading her to the door. "The body may have already arrived at the lab."

Brennan's eyes grew wide. "What? You already ordered the body to be transferred to the Jeffersonian?"

A sly smile played at Booth's lips. "I knew you were going to say yes."

* * *

He observed her as she stepped out of the building. He had waited for hours, but time did not matter. She looked confident, but he knew what she was really feeling inside. She was like Jasmine, who had always been careful to hide her sorrow, who had smiled at him when she met him in the corridor, laughed with her friends, concentrated on her work. He had talked to her only two times. The first time, she had barely looked up at him. Only few people paid attention to him anyway. The second time, she hadn't recognized him, but he didn't care. Two times had been enough for him to know she needed his help. When the moment came, she'd understand, and when she'd feel herself flying to joy and freedom, she'd thank him silently.

* * *

Booth swiped his card impatiently and walked onto the platform. He hadn't talked to Brennan since he had left her at the lab with the remains the day before. He had expected her to call him and tell him how the investigation was going, but his phone remained silent and he couldn't wait anymore. He found her leaned over a skeleton, focused as always.

"Is this Beth Collins?"

Brennan barely looked up. "Uh uh."

"So…?"

"Laceration wounds on her wrists, traces of Miaced in her system according to the tox screen, huge amount of blood in the water. The estimated time of death given by Hodgins coincides with the date of the fire."

Booth chuckled. "Similar crime scene. I told you so!"

She pretended she hadn't heard him. "And of course, we confirmed the identification of the body. Angela is trying to contact her family."

"I told you so!"

"You made an assumption that needed to be verified through a scientific study", she snapped. "That's not all though. Jack and Angela identified the wax found on the crime scene."

"Yeah?"

"The composition matches rose-scented candles. Rose-scented candles from Aphelia's."

"I told you so!"

She looked up at him, fuming. "Stop saying that, it's irritating!"

"It's irritating too when you insult my gut's feelings", he retorted.

"Stop acting like a child, Booth. We're investigating murders, it's not a game!"

Judging by the look he gave her, she had touched something close to his heart. "What? What do you mean? I want to catch this sicko as much as you do but it's annoying when you're reluctant to trust me."

"You two are so hot when you're arguing."

The two partners looked in the direction of the voice, suddenly dumb. Angela was standing in front of them, a playful look spread across her face. She uncrossed her arms. "I did research on Beth. She hasn't seen her family for a while. She left Wisconsin when she was 18. Her father refused to talk to me. He told me he didn't have a daughter. When I insisted, he retorted that his daughter died eight years ago, before hanging up. Poor girl…"

"It doesn't surprise me" Booth said. "I saw the concierge this morning, a nice woman by the way. Beth was working as a waitress. She didn't have any boyfriends, no-one the woman knew of in any case. Actually, she described her as a lonely, depressed girl. A vulnerable girl, pretty much the same profile as Ashley Porter's. At least I hope she was already dead when the fire started."

"Actually, she wasn't."

"Bones, _that_ was _not_ a question."

"You wanted to know what happened to Beth Collins", Brennan snapped.

"Hello, I'm here!" Angela all but shouted, waving her hands. "If you two could just stop arguing for a moment… Thank you. Booth, we need you to contact Aphelia's, they won't give us the list of their customers without a warrant. I think we should begin there, as this shop seems to be the only element linking the victims at the moment." She stepped back. "Okay, that's all I had to say so, act as if I never came in and keep on barking at each other if you enjoy it." She stepped back but as she reached the door, she spun around. "Although, in my opinion, you'd better go to the Diner and eat a piece of cherry cake together", she added with a grin.

* * *

_**A/N : **__**There hasn't been a lot of action so far, I hope this is ok for you. I'm doing my best to write dialogs that are not too boring, but I needed to lay down some elements about the case. I hope everything makes sense too. Be kind, rewind! (gives Manu a wink, knowing she loves that quote) Or review, as you wish ;)**_


	6. Hopeless fight

_**A/N : **__**This chapter is dedicated to my evil morning friend BBAddict (especially for the use of 'slightly', see, I take in what you teach me!!) and my sweet Precieuse. It feels so good to wake up with you Clare! (I mean, on msn and in a non-lesbian manner of course lol) I'm waiting eagerly to reading your new story, please finish it quick! Everybody, I advise you to come to her page (BBAddict) and read her stories, she's the best when it comes to descriptions, emotions and BB fluff… WriterC's stories are awesome too so if you haven't come to her page yet, just do it while waiting for me to update Thanks so much to you, my beta, who reads and corrects faster than her shadow! If you hadn't told me what you planned to study, I would have advised you to become a teacher ;)**_

_**And thanks a lot for the reviews, you're all really kind.**_

* * *

**Chapter ****6 : Hopeless fight**

* * *

He was always taking his time to make the good choice. He picked them by their scent rather than their tag. What's in a tag anyway? What's in a name? He took a candle and smelled it, but wrinkled his nose. Not this one. He put it back down on the shelf and grabbed another one. Not this one either. He had been staring at the shelf for a long moment, when his attention was caught by a white candle. He brought it to his nose and closed his eyes as he smelled it, as to immerse himself in its scent. Simple colour but classy scent. He glanced at the tag. Orchid. Yeah, that was definitely her.

* * *

Aphelia's was a small but lovely store situated in a beautiful street in the centre. Oil lamps, decorating items, dried flowers and, of course, candles, were nicely arranged upon shelves, creating a symphony of colours and scents. When Brennan and Booth entered, two customers were wandering through the store. It was noon so they hadn't expected it to be deserted. The partners headed straight for the cashier, a blonde woman in her forties.

"May I help you?" the woman said with a polite smile, her head slightly tilted to the side.

Booth showed her his badge discretely and placed the warrant on the counter. "Sure. We need the list of your customers, please. And a little bit of your time."

* * *

After over an hour, Booth and Brennan left the store. They hadn't learnt much from the woman but Angela would be able to study the list, which could be helpful. As they reached the SUV, Booth's cell phone rang. Brennan sat in the passenger's seat, waiting for him.

"Booth. Yeah. Uh uh. Okay, wait for me, I'll be there in about forty minutes."

Booth disconnected the call, got in the car and switched on the ignition. "I need to go to my office, I'll drive you back to the lab first, okay?"

* * *

Since Booth dropped her off at the Jeffersonian earlier that day, Brennan had been working with Angela. They had compared the list from Aphelia's with every person who could be related with at least one of the victims, but it seemed to be futile. If the killer had a minimum of intelligence, he'd never give his real name. The artist had left an hour ago, and now there she was, alone in her quiet office, focused on the elements of the case, trying to figure out what she could possibly be missing.

The beeping sound of her cell phone startled her.

"Brennan", she answered.

"Hey Bones, it's me. I've got new leads for the case. Are you hungry?"

She glanced at her watch. Seven thirty. "Yeah, sure."

"Join me at Sid's then, we'll talk about it, okay?"

"I'm leaving right now."

* * *

When she arrived, Booth was already sitting at a table. He smiled at her when he saw her stepping into the restaurant. She was dressed quite simply as often but he couldn't help thinking that whatever she was wearing, she always looked classy. A real woman. He watched her putting her coat and purse on the banquette table before sitting down across from him.

"So, what did you find? It sounded important."

"I did some research, and here is what I found." He handed her a folder. "Louise Simons, 22, found on May, 17th 2006 by her foster parents, wrists slashed, in the bathtub."

Brennan frowned, but soon she shrugged, finding nothing interesting in the sheets of papers she had been leafing through. She opened her mouth to say something when Booth handed her another file. "Alexandra Nass, 27, found in her house under the same conditions. Presumed date of death: January, 5th 2007." She took the folder. "And I kept the best for last: Shelly Wald, 25, found in a motel room, presumed death : November, 28th 2006." The last one included photos.

"Booth, all these files have been closed."

"And I think it's worth reopening them. They didn't even run a tox screen on Shelly Wald."

"Booth, this girl was under psychiatric treatment. The report mentions scars on her wrists suggesting at least two prior attempts to kill herself."

"So did Ashley Porter!"

She shook her head confusedly. "Ashley Porter swallowed the contents of a narcotics box, which is not the same. Statistically, she was unlikely to slash her wrists after that, because this method scared her."

"But look at the pictures!"

Brennan barely noticed the plate being placed in front of her. "So what? You wanna dig up the body?"

"That's what I planned, yeah."

"Booth, that's ridiculous, you'll never get the warrant."

"I can be very persuasive", he said with a smile.

"Very stubborn too."

"Obstinacy is also a quality."

She sighed. "So you want to reopen these files, assuming these girls could have been his first victims?"

"Exactly."

"I totally disagree with your point of view, Booth. Remember what happened to Beth Collins. The killer knocked off a candle, meaning he was clumsy and nervous, and obviously, he escaped without even trying to do something about the fire. He is inexperienced."

"So you're a profiler now?" he said through his teeth. "I thought you hated psychology!"

"Excuse me, I thought you wanted my opinion!" she hissed. "And this is NOT my method!"

"I know that, Bones, but just look at the pictures and read the files again. These girls' profile fits perfectly what the filler is looking for. Alexandra Nass couldn't get over the loss of her husband and daughter in a car accident the year before, Shelly Walds had suicidal tendencies and Louise Simmons was a… difficult child." He bit his lower lip, knowing he shouldn't have mentioned this one.

"Of course she was a difficult child, she was a foster kid!"

"Look Bones, you know that I didn't mean..."

She cut him off. "You ward off the idea of suicide because your religion forbids it. This girl had every reason to kill herself Booth. You tell me to focus on the files, but do it yourself! She's been beaten and raped by her former foster father!"

"I know that, I read it! Don't feel obliged to bark at me! Why are you so touchy?"

"I'm not touchy!" She retorted in a cool voice.

"Yes you are. On top of that, you're aggressive."

She pushed her plate back. "Okay, you know what, I changed my mind, I'm not hungry anymore."

With that, she stood up, fumbled through her purse, threw a twenty-dollar bill on the table, grabbed her coat and stalked out of the restaurant.

* * *

She all but slammed shut the door of her apartment before locking it. Yes indeed, she was touchy when it came to foster kids. Deep inside, she knew that Booth never meant to hurt her, and that he never would. But right now, she was pissed off. She took off her shoes, not even taking the trouble to put them away in the cupboard, and threw her coat on the couch. She knew only one thing that could really relax her and calm her down. A good hot bath. She walked towards the bathroom but her hand stopped on the handle. She felt silly, but this damned creepy case…

She sighed with annoyance when she heard a knock on the door. _Not now…_ This had to be Booth, but she wasn't in the mood for talking and decided to ignore him. She sat at her desk and opened her laptop. Working on her book would probably take her mind off her anger. Then, she would be able to call him, and maybe even to apologise. But when she heard the second knock, she realised he wouldn't leave until he'd talked to her. She sat up, sighing exasperatedly again, walked towards the door, unlocked it and opened it sharply.

"Look Booth, I'm not in the…" She cut herself off, realising that the man standing in front of her was not Booth. "Oh I'm uh… I'm sorry, I thought…"

"No, _I_ am." The man said, almost shyly. "I'm sorry to disturb you but I stupidly locked myself out of my apartment and of course I don't have a cell phone or money, actually I don't even have my coat", he explained in a rush. "Could I perhaps use your phone? I promise I won't be long, I just need to call my girlfriend, she's got a spare set of my keys."

"Uh… Yes, sure." Brennan said, inviting him to come in. _This is really not my day_, she thought, grabbing her cell phone off her desk. _How can people be so stupid?_

When she felt the needle in her neck, she tried to turn and defend herself, but within seconds she realised her body didn't obey her mind anymore, and she fell hard to the floor.

* * *

_**A/N :**__** I know it's very annoying to be obliged to wait… I'll do my best to update very soon!**_


	7. Drowning in fear

_**A/N : **__**This chapter is dedicated to Lara aka EmEx aka Elfie. Not because of the content (this chapter is really angsty, I don't want you to think I want to dedicate an angsty chapter to you lol) but because she's getting married tomorrow!! Good luck with the party sweetie, I know you're kinda stressed. I'll think of you and I wish you love, happiness, and all that could mean to you! I know you'll read this later, but when you do, you'll see that I had been thinking of you :D**_

_**I decided this story would be used to promote my favourite authors and friends so yes, EmEx is a fabulous author too. She wrote a lot about different shows, films, etc. and she's just written her first Bones story which is really funny. Trust me, go to her page and read it ;)**_

_**And of course, thanks again to my beta hugs you, you're part of this story for helping me a lot improving it.**_

* * *

**Chapter 7**** : Drowning in fear**

* * *

"You're heavier than you look!" The tone of his voice told her it was not a criticism. He wasn't making fun of her either. He was speaking to her as he would to a child, teasing as if he wanted her to unwind. He didn't even seem violent or insane. He had grabbed her under the armpits and was now pulling her slowly across the apartment, making sure she didn't hurt herself on a door or furniture. When they arrived in the bathroom, he carefully put her head down on the floor. As he was doing that, she could feel his breath on her face. It smelled like menthol. Then, he stood up and soon she heard the noise of the water filling the bathtub.

_This__ must be the moment when religious people begin to pray_, she thought as panic was invading her. _Would Booth pray to God if he was in my place? Would I be less frightened if I did?_

The man kneeled next to her and bent down to whisper in her ear. "Don't be afraid, Temperance, I won't hurt you. I don't want to."

When in their presence, he always called them by their real name. Even if this name didn't make sense to him, he knew it made sense to them. He knew it was reassuring for them. He took his time to take off her clothes, making sure he touched her skin as little as possible. He didn't even told her how gorgeous she looked and how delicate her creamy skin was. He didn't want her to have wrong thoughts about him; surely he couldn't be blamed for just glancing at her. He took off her clothes piece by piece, folding them meticulously. Then, he got up on his feet and immersed his hands in the water. The temperature was perfect, so he turned the faucet off. He couldn't help but feeling slightly excited. It was time.

* * *

Booth finished eating his dinner slowly. He was wondering what to do about the situation with his partner, whether to call her or not. Several times, he had grabbed his cell phone, selected her name and changed his mind. Maybe it was too early, maybe she was still mad at him. Dammit, he hated this situation. He was feeling guilty and so uncomfortable. They often argued, but it had sort of become a game of theirs, only this time it was different.

He left the restaurant and jumped into his car. After a few minutes he still hadn't turned on the ignition, merely holding his cell phone in his palm and staring absently at it. Maybe she was simply waiting for him to make the first move. Maybe he had hurt her more than he'd thought. Maybe she thought that he didn't understand, that he never would. Maybe she believed that he didn't care.

Eventually, he dialled her number, in an irrepressible urge to hear her voice and to be sure that everything was fine.

* * *

She was frozen. Chilled to the bone. But when he lifted her from the hard, cold bathroom floor and submerged her in the hot water, she realised that nothing could warm her up.

"Don't be afraid, Temperance", he said again. "I'm here to help you. I know what you're feeling, I know what happened to you. I know what it's like to be lonely, betrayed. You don't have to live like this, to live with this. If you think you want to, you're lying to yourself, because deep inside, you know you don't."

He couldn't help stretching his arm and stroke her auburn hair with his fingers. It seemed so soft and silky. And indeed, it was.

"I know you won't admit it, but you've thought about it, haven't you?"

His voice was low, almost a whisper. The smell of menthol made her feel sick. She wanted to scream 'no', but she couldn't. There was nothing she could say, nothing she could do to save herself.

"I know what you're feeling; I've been through the same."

He slightly cocked his head to look into her eyes. Her eyelids were half-opened and she seemed to fixate on the water, but still he could see the fear in her pale blue eyes.

"Don't be afraid, Temperance, you don't have to be afraid. Just trust me, you know I've come to help you."

She could feel his hand leaving her hair and then she knew he was getting on his feet. She heard him fumbling through his bag and pacing through the bathroom to arrange the candles. He was taking his time, lighting them as he was placing them on the shelves, the table, the edge of the bathtub.

"You've been thinking about it for a long time, haven't you? Years maybe. But you don't have to be ashamed, Temperance, I know there's a gap between the will and the act."

When he was finished, he switched off the light and admired the effect of the candlelight on the water and her face.

"I'm not judging you and I never will. You're not alone anymore, I'm here now."

He leaned over her and submerged his arm into the water, grabbing her right wrist. She wasn't able to see it, but she knew what was in his other hand.

"This is gonna hurt a little, sweetheart. I'm sorry for that. But I promise you…"

He couldn't finish, the noise of the phone ringing freezing him. He let go of her arm and all but rushed towards the living room, leaving her alone in the bathroom.

'_This is Dr Temperance Brennan, I'm not here __at the moment but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can'_

When she felt water in her mouth, she realised that she was slowly slipping under.

'_Hey, Bones, i__t's me. I guess you're at home since your cell phone is turned off. Look, I'm sorry for what I said at the restaurant… I was tactless, right. But I didn't mean to hurt you, you know that.' _There was a pause._ 'I'd like to talk, please. Please, call me back okay? I'll…'_

She wasn't able to hear the end of the message, her head now surrounded by the water.

* * *

Booth disconnected the call, sighing. He'd been mistaken. Obviously, she didn't want to talk to him. How much longer could this last? Shaking his head with disappointment and frustration, he switched on the ignition and drove towards his place.

* * *

He thought she didn't want to talk to him. Now she realised she had hoped for him to come. He would have come to her place, felt that something wrong was going on, smashed open the door, killed the bad guy and saved her. Usually, she was not this kind of woman, but right now, it was her only hope. Had been. He wouldn't come.

As panic made her suffocate, she began inhaling water. But was drowning worse than what was awaiting her? After all, wasn't it better to get it over and done with now? She fought her subconscious reflex to save her breath and slowly exhaled the air which was still in her lungs.

* * *

He remained still for a long moment, staring at the answering machine. He was nervous, and angry. This guy, whoever he was, had no right to interrupt them. How could he believe he could help her merely by talking? _He_ was the one who could help her. The only one.

* * *

_**A/N :**__** I'm not at home during the week end but I'll do my best to write as much as I can about chapter 8, and to update as quickly as I can. Thanks again for the reviews, they really mean to me. Some of you asked me whether I would include some BB fluff later, the answer is yes, but in the last chapters, so you'll have to wait a bit. As wise Mumrulz **__**said, patience is a virtue, and I would add, there's a time for everything! **_


	8. Orchid

_**A/N : **__**This chapter is dedicated to my French fellow Sarali1983. She's written two great stories so far, go read them because she writes very well. Thanks again to you reviewers, I'd like to say it's not important to know what the others think about what you wrote, but actually it is. So thank you for letting me know you like the story, I'm glad you do. And Catherine, I'm so happy you asked me to be my beta, I don't know what I'd do without you now ;)**_

* * *

**Chapter ****8 : Orchid**

* * *

Her throat was burning and her chest was on fire. Scientifically speaking, she knew exactly what was awaiting her. She knew what would be painful and how, she knew how much time remained until she'd slip into unconsciousness, but knowing and feeling were two different things. Knowing did not suppress the fear or the pain, and it seemed to her that she had been holding her breath for hours.

When someone grabbed her under the armpits and pulled her out of the water, she could barely follow what was going on. She didn't want to breathe anymore, but fighting for their life is the most important reflex of a human being, and hope is part of this fight. Just for a couple of seconds, she hoped she'd see Booth leaned over her, that he would lift her out of this bath she was supposed to die in, cover her bare body, get rid of these damned candles and turn the light on, warm her up in his arms and promise her that he'd let nothing happen to her again. Had this been the case, she'd have been thankful to breathe.

Her lungs filled with air. The true agony would start now.

* * *

Booth resisted the urge to call her again. He knew he'd better wait for her to come to him. Too preoccupied with his thoughts and worries, he realised he had taken a wrong turn and was driving towards the highway. Cursing, he did a U-turn, stirring up the impatience of the other drivers who honked their horn at him with annoyance.

* * *

"I'm so sorry sweetheart, so sorry", he almost whined. "I didn't mean to let you drown, you know that, don't you?" He caressed her face and her wet hair during a long time, watching her with tears of guilt in his eyes. She couldn't see him but she could hear it in his voice. "I'm here now, I won't leave you anymore, I promise." He immersed his arm in the hot water and grabbed her wrist. "Don't be afraid Temperance, I know this is gonna hurt, I know it, but it's the only solution" he whispered before pushing the blade into her flesh. She'd never felt anything so painful in her life. Tears began to fill her eyes. "I know how much it hurts, sweetheart. I know." His voice was soft, sympathetic. When he slashed her wrist for the second time, a tear managed to run down her cheek. "Be strong Temperance, I promise you that everything's gonna be fine after that. Everything."

* * *

Booth was now pacing the length of his living room. There was nothing he managed to begin, he wasn't even hungry. He realised how much he hated the idea of his Bones being mad at him, thinking that he did not understand her and, worse, that he had meant to hurt her. He flopped down on his couch, ran his hands over his face and ended up switching on the TV. He flicked through different channels until he came across a football match, then went to the kitchen, retrieved a beer from the fridge, sat back down on the couch, took a sip and tried to focus on the screen. But when he found the drink was not even fresh or good enough at all, he decided that one way or another he had to talk to her. He grabbed his keys from the table and did not even bother to put on his coat, slamming the door as he left.

* * *

He slashed her wrist three times before letting go of her arm. The heat of the water made the wounds hurt even more. Again, he was taking his time; was it to let her have a break between the cuts or because he enjoyed making the last? Had she had control over her muscles, she would have shivered with fear when he grabbed her left wrist. One slash. The edge of the bathtub was stained with blood and thin tendrils slowly seeped down to the water surface, blossoming as they mixed with the clear liquid. Two. She wished she could turn her gaze away from the scarlet fluid spreading in the water. Three. The phone rang again. She'd have liked to scream and cry when he startled, making the slash even deeper. He turned nervously to the door, almost dropping her arm on the edge of the bathtub.

'_This is Dr Temperance Brennan, I'm not here __at the moment but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can'_

There was a beep, but no message. He turned to her again, fear, nervosity and hesitation written on his face. He kneeled next to her again, leaned over her and lightly kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry, Temperance, I'm so sorry", he stammered, whispering in her ear. "I gotta go, I don't want to, but I have to. I wanted to stay with you but it's too risky now, you understand, don't you? The others, they won't understand, they never do. Everything is gonna be fine now, soon, very soon. I know you'll be strong enough. Goodbye, sweetheart, I promise I'll never forget you. I never do."

* * *

Booth disconnected the call without leaving a message. He turned on the radio and tapped the wheel anxiously, waiting for the red light to turn green. When the song ended, the speaker announced traffic congestion in the centre. He cursed and sighed with impatience although he knew he could do nothing but to scowl and bear it.

* * *

The cold outside made him shiver. It felt like frozen thorns being pushed into his skin. He wiped the few tears that managed to form in his eyes. Orchid was safe, in the warm. For her, everything would be over soon. He wished he had been able to stay with her before she left. He wished he had been able to watch her, reassure her, and guide her, holding her hand. He hated to have been obliged to leave her alone. He hated when he had to leave them alone, but he was far more afraid that someone could see him. People, they didn't understand. They never did, never would. But he knew he always did the right thing, which was what mattered to him.

The street was crowded with passerbies. For a moment, he watched them walking down the street, kissing, holding each other's hand. And for an instant, he felt lonely. He had no-one to walk down the street with, no-one to hold, no-one to kiss. He scolded himself silently. _What are you talking about_? he thought. _What are you complaining about?_ For he was not alone, not really. And he knew what he had to do.

He took a deep breath. The frozen air burned his lungs but he didn't care anymore, and as a slight smile spread across his face, he melted into the crowd.

* * *

_**A/N :**__** At first, this chapter was meant to be one with the following chapter but as I had already written quite a lot and I didn't want to make you wait to much, I decided to cut it here. Sorry for the cliffhanger, I promise this one will be the last ( for the moment :P). I should finish chapter 9 tomorrow, I really want to because on Tuesday I'm leaving on vacations again and I won't have access to internet, which is a shame, but I'll come back with several written chapters, which is better!!**_


	9. What have I done?

_**A/N : **__**The whole chapter is dedicated to my lovely beta, Catherine. She's a genius and she added a lot of great sentences, thus greatly improving the descriptions in this chapter. Thanks so much!**_

_**By the way, if you're looking for interesting and well-written stories, check SSJL and bertie456's ones, they are awesome.**_

* * *

**Chapter 9**** : What have I done?**

* * *

A drop of water ran down her temple. Or was it sweat? The pounding of her heart in her chest was hurting her so much she could barely breathe. She tried to calm down by thinking of this last phone call. No message… Had it been Booth again? Was he planning to come over to her place? She knew him well enough to know he'd try to talk to her. Maybe he'd even bring take-out from Wong Foo's… On the other hand, as she hadn't answered any of his calls, he might think she was still too angry to listen, or maybe he thought she didn't want to see him at all.

_What have I done?_ she thought, a sob getting caught in her throat. All these thoughts seemed so superfluous, offbeat, useless. She mastered three types of martial arts but she hadn't been able to defend herself. She had always managed to control everything in her life but had now lost every power. Only one thing hadn't changed: she was alone. She had always taken good care to push away everybody who they got too close, when they got too close, she had learned to count only on herself and never to rely on anyone. In a sense, she had always been alone, and here she was, alone again. But now she was forced to leave behind everything and everyone she knew without even saying goodbye, and she wasn't just alone, she was lonely. She knew that she wouldn't be here if she hadn't freaked out and left the restaurant. She had convinced herself that Booth didn't want to understand, that he didn't care; yet the truth was that _she_ didn't want him to be that close, thus would not let him.

_What have I done?_ She didn't want to die anymore. Ironically, it seemed that now of all times, she had begun to realise how precious life was. She wished she had accomplished more. Of course, she could make her last moments in this world more bearable by assuring herself that she would have put more effort in experiencing the joys of life and the people that she cared for had she lived longer; yet somehow it felt wrong to do so. Instead she started listing all the "If I…"s and all the "If only…"s. _If I would have let Booth finish, if I would have _justlistened_ to him at the restaurant instead of fleeing from my memories… If only I would have let Booth in and talked to him… _She wondered what she'd change in her life if she was given the chance to escape from this nightmare.

Tears of anguish, sadness and sorrow were oozing from her half-opened eyes. The silence scared her. She could feel blood running over her palm and sliding down her fingers. She could hear it dripping on the floor. _Drop. Silence. Drop. Drop, drop, drop. _The candlelight was reflected by the water that was now turning into scarlet and emitted an eerie glow. The delicate smell of flowers made her sick. Her wrists were hurting like hell and her eyes were burning. She wished she could close them for good and open them only to see the light of day again. To see the light of day and his face. _What have I done?_ She was chilled to the bone, and she wanted nothing but for him to hold her and tell her everything would be all right.

The water was dark now. Or was it her vision clouding? Her ears were buzzing and her thoughts began to get muddled up in her mind, leaving it an incoherent mess. She managed to hold on to one thought though. She wished she could see his face again. Just once, once again. Just once again.

* * *

Booth was growing nervous as he parked the SUV. He noticed her car in the parking lot. He took the stairs rather than the elevator, without even considering it. When he had gazed at her windows from the street, he had seen no lights, and as it was still quite early, he was beginning to suspect she had left for a walk. Although, if that was the case, he should be able to find her easily, wouldn't he? When at last he found himself in front of apartment 2B, it struck him: the door wasn't completely closed. Another ominous feeling began to invade him, without him understanding where it came from. He pushed open the door slowly, drawing the gun from its holster on his belt. He stepped inside carefully and silently, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He pricked up his ears as to sense every sound, but heard nothing. The apartment was tidy, as usual. He shivered with anxiety when he noticed the pile of folded clothes on the couch. He felt stupid when this made him think of the crime scene in Saint Gabriel's.

"Bones?"

He walked towards the bathroom and noted the pale light escaping from behind the half-opened door. Still training his gun at an invisible intruder in front of him, he realised that his hand was shaking. _Calm down, bud, calm down. She's just having a relaxing bath and she can't hear you because she's fallen asleep._ He hesitated, knowing what he risked if she actually was taking a bath._ If you open the door and she sees you, she'll freak out and think you're a pervert._ But teasing himself didn't chase away the gruesome image of Ashley Porter's body. And Louise Simons'. And Alexandra Nass'. And Shelly Wald's.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and stepped closer to the door, calling her again. At this very moment, he became fully aware of the unusual smell. A sweet, prominent scent. Shaking, he pushed open the door further with the hand not holding the gun. At the sight of her familiar face he wanted to sigh in relief, but it got stuck somewhere in his throat. She was lying in the bloody water, her drenched hair sticking to her skull, her left arm resting on the edge of the bathtub, thick blood slowly making its way down her motionless hand and dripping into the scarlet pool expanding on the floor. He all but felt his heart stop and remained still for an instant, but only an instant. _What have I done? _he thought as he was getting rid of his jacket and approached her lifeless form. Her face was ashen. It had to be because of the light, he couldn't- wouldn't believe she might be… He leaned over her, placed his finger pads on the jugular vein in her neck and was able to breathe again only when he felt a faint but reassuring pulse under his fingers.

_What have I done?_He knew he could have been there sooner. He should have been there to protect her. But there was no time for should-haves; right now he had to think and act fast. "I'm here now, Bones", he whispered, crouching next to her. "I'm not going to let you die, do you hear me? You're gonna make it, I swear." He wondered if she could hear him, but actually it was not that important because in any case he _needed_ to say it. "You're gonna make it". He pressed his thumb on her artery, just above the crook of her elbow. With his other hand, he undid his tie, wrapped it around her arm, covering the spot where his finger sat and tightened it to stop the bleeding. Then, he sat up and submerged his arm in the water, feeling for her right arm. When he had it out of the water, he again pressed his thumb against the artery, glancing around to find what he could use as a tourniquet. When he found nothing, he let her arm rest on the edge of the bathtub, rushed to the kitchen, grabbed scissors and cut a strip from the dish towel. When he returned, he tried not to focus on the blood and water running down her hand and tightened the strip around her arm. He acted mechanically, without thinking, for his experience in the army had taught him that thinking in this kind of situation could kill the entire group.

He spread a towel on the floor, then stood up, placed his arms under her knees and shoulders and lifted her from the crimson, still hot water. He couldn't help holding her tight for a moment, closing his eyes. His lips moved slightly as he thanked God that she was still alive and prayed to Him to let her get through this. When he gently laid her down, he barely noticed her nudity and covered her bare skin with another towel. He stood up and opened the medicine cabinet, grabbing bandages. He kneeled down close to her and wound it around her wrists. Then, he ran to the bedroom, opened a cupboard and took a blanket on one of the shelves. Fortunately, Bones' cupboards were always tidy. Back in the bathroom, he wrapped her in the blanket and lifted her in his arms, rubbing her back as best as he could for she was still wet and probably getting cold.

Not even for a second the thought of calling 911 crossed his mind. Nobody would be quick enough to save her; nobody would be wise enough to know what to do. Nobody but him could take care of her. When he got to the hospital, he all but fought with the doctors when they tried to take her from his arms, and he kept frantically repeating her blood group until someone guided him to a waiting room. As he began to see that the doctors knew better how to save her life than he did and that they wouldn't transfuse her with wrong blood, he flopped into a chair with his head in his hands. And only then, he allowed himself to cry, for there was nothing more he could do now, and her fate was in somebody else's hands.

* * *

_**A/N :**__** Please don't kill me, you know I won't let Bones die. I don't like to spoil my stories but I can't leave you with this during one week! I promise I'll write a lot while I'm gone (I'll have plenty of time), and you'll have a lot to read when I come back, although it also depends on my beta! Catherine, Clare, Kikas, I'll miss you but I'll think of you and I'll be right back! **_


	10. White walls and dark dreams

**A/N****: I'm back! And the good new is that I wrote a lot while I was gone§ Thanks again to you Catherine for your help, and especially for the nurse's speech.**

* * *

**Chapter**** 10 : White walls and dark dreams**

* * *

Even without opening her eyes, she immediately was aware of where she was. The annoying sound of beeps was ringing in her head and the recognizable smell filling her nostrils made her slightly sick. She knew that when she'd open her eyes, she'd see these white walls she hated so much. That's why she didn't rush to let her eyelids open. Anyway, she was feeling horrible. Her wrists were aching and she was exhausted. She felt lost when she tried to figure out how long she had possibly remained unconscious. She had certainly lost a huge amount of blood. She barely remembered how she managed to survive. To tell the truth, she did remember his voice. It had seemed so distant to her then, it had sounded like nothing but a trick of her mind. However, she remembered having felt safe again, and warm. Now she began to understand it had not been a dream or something she had imagined. It was confusing, though, and something inside her refused to let her think about it.

There was someone else in the room. It was hard to focus on the voices and what they were saying, but she felt a hand resting on her right one. No matter how, she knew it was Angela's. The voices were low; almost whispers, but she recognized her friend's voice. The other one had to be Jack's. Her friends were here. They were here for her. They had never left her alone. She felt a little more reassured, a little more normal and a little more back to the world of the living. Her chest rose as she took a deep breath before allowing herself to surrender to sleep again.

* * *

"She moved Jack. I felt her hand move", Angela's eyes were red and it looked like she hadn't slept in days, which actually was not far from the truth.

"Let her rest, will you? You know she has to", Hodgins said, his arm around her shoulders. "You should rest, too."

"You know I can't do that Jack", she replied with tears in her eyes.

"She knows you're here, she can feel you, I'm sure of this, okay? This is what matters, doesn't it? She'll wake up when she's able to."

Angela nodded slightly and did not resist when he invited her to rest her head on his chest.

* * *

She immediately regretted to have let herself slip into darkness again. The white walls were nothing compared to the dark dreams she found herself in. Fears, feelings, and memories mixed in an unbearable nightmare where she lost all sense of time and reality, no longer able to distinguish present from past, truth from dread, sensations from delusion. She now feared what she would experience when she'd open her eyes. Terror or relief, darkness or light, loneliness or safety, she didn't know what was real anymore.

Subconsciously, she desperately searched for the warm, soft hand she had felt or dreamt about holding hers before, and panicked when she didn't find it. She terribly missed the soothing contact. The thought that she could be alone again caused her to grow anxious and made it hard to breathe. She needed to wake up, needed to be sure that this hand hadn't just been a fabrication of her mind. She fought hard to regain consciousness. It was like drowning in a dark ocean, oblivious to what way the surface was, up, down, left, right, and not even knowing if there would be something to cling onto when she'd reach it. But somewhere in her heart, she knew that the struggle was worth it and she was strong enough to succeed.

When she opened her eyes, the light blinded her, forcing her to flutter her eyelashes in order to decrease the intensity of the light. The pain hadn't ceased. She was cold and her brow was wet with sweat. And then she saw her. She stared at her for a long moment, as if she was some kind of mirage or a supernatural apparition. But when she noticed the tears of relief and exhaustion in her eyes, she realised she was no angel or trick of her mind. It was just Angela, just her friend. At this very moment, she understood what the truth was, and what reality was. And she made herself the promise not to fall asleep again.

"Hold my hand please, hold it tight." She had meant to say 'Hey, Angela', but these words had escaped her mouth instead.

A tear rolled down Angela's cheek as she took her friend's hand very carefully and folded hers gently around it. "I thought I'd lost you forever, sweetie…" was all she managed to utter before bursting out in tears.

"I'm going to be fine, Angela. Everything's gonna be all right", she said with a catch in her voice.

Angela lifted her head and wiped the tears from her face. "I should be the one who says that. You're the one who's in this hospital bed yet it's you comforting me!" she said, half-sobbing, half-laughing.

"How long have I been here?" Brennan inquired, trying to keep a neutral tone.

"About thirty-six hours."

Brennan was about to ask another question when a nurse entered the room. She was a tubby, dark-haired woman who made them both think of Caroline, the lawyer. "Glad you've decided to wake up at last. I could run a marathon on thirty-six hours of sleep", she said with a smile on her face as she changed the perfusion. "By now you're gonna eat the old-fashioned way. Now don't you tell this lady any stories that will ruin her appetite. I'll be back with some real food soon."

Lost in her thoughts, Angela observed thoughtfully the nurse's movements and her gaze followed the woman as she walked out of the room.

"How have I gotten in here?"

Angela turned her head towards her friend.

"You... You don't remember?"

Shaking her head, she lied. "No."

"Booth brought you to the hospital. I don't have many details; we didn't have time to talk a lot about it. I don't think he wanted to, anyway... All I'm sure of is that you had already lost a lot of blood...It was short, very short. But he did the right things and didn't lose time. Without him, you'd be dead."

"They haven't caught him yet, have they?"

The question startled Angela. There was a pause before she answered. "You mean, the..." Brennan nodded. "No, they haven't." She said in a small, almost inaudible voice.

"I guess they need me for this, don't they? Since I'm the only one who has... you know... the chance to talk about him."

Again, Angela hesitated before answering, avoiding her friend's gaze. "Yes sweetie, they need you. _We_ need you. We're gonna work on it together as soon as you're..."

She was interrupted by the nurse who returned in the room with a meal tray in her hands. Brennan grimaced and shook her head.

"I'm not hungry."

The woman raised her eyebrows. "Well you'd better get feeling just that, sweetheart, because hungry or not you need to regain your strength." She helped her sit up straight, propping the pillows behind her back, and put the tray down in front of her. "I won't take this out before it's finished. Eat", she added in a strict voice, winking at Angela with a half-smile before leaving the room.

Brennan glanced at the tray. The vision and smell of the food made her sick but her mind told her she had to eat.

"It's not exactly appetising" Angela noted in a sympathetic voice. "But if I were in your place, I'd eat it all, because if you don't I'm afraid she'll kick your ass." They both laughed.

When their laughter died, their eyes met and they remained locked a long moment, staring at each other with gratitude. No words were needed for them to know what the other was thinking. Brennan was the one who broke eye contact, turning her gaze to the food and sticking her fork into the vegetables.

"We'd better start, Angela", she said after slowly swallowing, earning herself a surprised and concerned look from her friend. "Are you sure?" When she nodded, Angela grabbed her sketch book and her pen from her bag. "Are you really sure you want to do this now, sweetie?"

"Listen, Angela. I've been working on this case. I'm still working on it. I want to catch him, and this has nothing to do with what he did to me. If we don't find him, he'll do it again. So what do you need?"

"Okay... First of all, tell me all that comes to you about his physical appearance."

"He wasn't tall. About 5', 5'5". And he was skinny. His hair was straight and the colour... I would say dark blond, or light brown maybe. It was not long or short. He had a long face and his eyes were small. His face was young, immature, but I think he was older than he seemed... About 30, 35 years old."

"Do you remember his mouth?"

"I... Thin, I guess. And he looked pale."

"What about his nose?"

"Small."

"Like this?"

"No, thinner."

"His ears?"

"Sticking out."

Angela finished her sketch before showing it to her friend. "Does it look like him?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. His look was shier, shifty."

The artist corrected the sketch. "Like this?"

Brennan narrowed her eyes. "Yes, like this", she concluded, though not too sure about her description. But after all, she had barely seen him and there was something about him that made the description difficult. It was his voice she remembered clearest. His damned voice that sent shivers on her spine.

"Okay sweetie, I'm gonna go back to work. Jack is in the waiting room, he will stay with you for a while. I'll call him if we find anything, all right?" Brennan nodded and Angela bent over her, gently kissing her forehead and taking advantage of her position to whisper in her ear. "I'm sure your knight in shining armour will be here soon." She walked to the door, then stopped and spun around with a grin on her face. "Oh, sweetie... You should eat your pudding before Jack arrives, or he will pounce on it. I'm just saying." She winked at her friend and left the room.

* * *

Leaned against the wall of the corridor, Angela sighed, the smile on her face fading. She glanced at the sketch. This would not be easy. She fumbled in her bag and grabbed her cell phone. "Hey Booth. She's woken up..." Brennan pricked up her ears. The door wasn't completely closed and she could hear her friend from her room. "Fine, considering what happened to her..." Angela's voice was weary, filled with tiredness. "Yeah, I've got a sketch, but I'm not sure... Her description was pretty confused. Yeah, three agents. Always two at her door." Three agents were here to keep her safe... Booth, most probably... He feared the man would try to finish what he had begun. But she doubted that. Not here. "Okay, I'll go to the school and show the sketch to the director, but I can't promise you anything." There was a pause. "No Booth, I can't do that, okay? It's not... I can't, I'm sorry." A pause again. "Okay then."

Angela ended the call and headed for the exit, lost in her thoughts. She knew she had to push her feelings aside and focus on the case. When she bumped into someone, she mumbled apologies and continued her way through the corridor, scolding herself and making sure she watched her step.

* * *

The day before, his curiosity had already been aroused by these men wearing black suits standing in front of room 217, obviously guarding it. He called them the 'Men in Black', just for fun. After bumping into the lady, he stayed a long moment staring at her as she was stalking away. She seemed worried, tired. But a lot of people were worried and tired in a hospital. He turned his attention back to room 217. The door was half-opened and the Men in Black were looking away, chatting and laughing with coffee-cups in their hands. If he could just have a quick look... He walked closer, making sure he didn't draw the men's attention. He knew that curiosity was a bad flaw, but he just couldn't resist. A quick look and he'd get back to his tasks. There was a woman, alone in the room. She was eating slowly, a meal tray in her lap. His heart beat faster when he noticed the bandages on her wrists. And it stopped when she slightly turned her head towards the door, allowing him to recognize her face.

"You can't be here, sir." A firm hand grabbed his arm. "Don't stay here, please." The Men in Black were no longer laughing. And neither was he.

* * *

_**A/N: I promise you'll have at least 3 more chapters quite fast, because they are already written and just waiting for correction. I hope you'll keep on liking it, please review!**_


	11. Low profile

_**A/N: Thanks a lot for your kind reviews, it means a lot to me!**_

* * *

**Chapter**** 11 : Low profile**

* * *

Booth disconnected the call to his cell phone. He was exhausted but he would be restless until he found this son of a bitch. He had stayed for what seemed hours in the waiting room. Again, he had fought with the doctors to be allowed to see her when they didn't want anyone to and he wasn't even family. Then, he had been holding her hand for almost an hour, incapable of taking his eyes off of her. He could have spent the eternity looking at her had it been an assurance that she kept on breathing. He had wished he was the one she'd see when she opened her eyes. But he knew what he could do, and had to do. Eventually, he had found the strength to call Angela. And here he was, in his office, with the files concerning the case spread out on his desk. He wondered what he would do when he'd find him. What he would do to _him_, because he wasn't sure he would be able to stop himself from killing him.

But the news wasn't good. Things were going as he had been dreading: the sketch had not helped identifying the killer. He didn't even know if there was a connection between the victims. Louise Simons had been in high-school and so had Ashley Porter. However, the first one was in a public school while the other was in a prep school in another city. Beth Collins was a waitress and Alexandra Nass a lawyer. As for Shelly Wald, it appeared she had abandoned university to devote herself to her job as a stripper. Social origins, physical appearance, age, occupation, everything divided them. How could he possibly know them all? Maybe he chose them at random. Or maybe he didn't and they were overlooking something important.

It wasn't enough. Bones either hadn't seen him long enough or her memories were altered by what had happened to her. He needed more than a description of the killer's features; he needed elements which would enable him to penetrate his life, his mind. And she was the only one who could help him with this. Not only because she was one of the victims, but also because he needed her rational, scientific opinions and reasoning. This was what Seeley Booth was trying to convince himself of, for what he really wanted was to hear her voice, to talk to her, hold her hand, feel her warm skin, and see for himself that he hadn't lost her.

* * *

When he entered, she was staring at the TV screen on the opposite side of the room. Her auburn waves were draped over the pillow like a halo, and her palms were turned upwards to let her bandaged wrists have some relieve. When he closed the door behind him, the sound made her turn her gaze to him. From where he was standing, he could already notice that her cheeks had regained their colour. He stepped closer and, for one second, he saw distress and fragility in her eyes. He thought she was about to cry. He felt his heart sink, but the next instant she was smiling at him with her usual strong, confident look. He sat down on a chair next to her and smiled back, concealing his concern.

"Hey Booth", she said, more weakly than she had wanted. She had expected him to come, thought about a million ways to avoid a real conversation with him, and yet she was feeling unprepared.

"Hey", was all he managed to utter. He didn't know what to say, how to behave. "How do you feel?" Damn. The words had slipped from his mouth. He felt so stupid. Of course she was not fine.

She shrugged. "A little sleepy, but fine", she replied indifferently. "I mean, it's not as if it was the first time, you know." It was as if she was here for a broken leg or a sprained wrist. The gleam in her eyes was saying 'I'm gonna get through this, and with this I need nobody's help, not even yours, and I certainly don't want anybody's pity or sympathy. But he could see something else in those blue orbs, something indefinable that made him think she was lying. "A little bored, though. I wish I was allowed to have my laptop so that I can do something more useful and interesting than watching TV."

"TV can be useful and interesting", he retorted in a teasing voice that did not convey at all what he was feeling inside.

"Really?" She chuckled. "I don't regret never having replaced mine."

"Look, Bones, uh... I've something very difficult to ask you."

Her smile disappeared and she stared at him for a moment. "Oh... What is it?"

"I, uh... The sketch..."

"Gave nothing?"

He shook his head in reply. "I'm sorry."

She sighed with discouragement. "No, I am. That's entirely my fault", she said, sounding angry at herself.

He leaned closer and placed his hand on hers in a protective and soothing gesture. "Don't say that, okay? Nothing that happened was your fault, and you did your best to describe the killer. We didn't even expect you to do it that soon."

"So what do you want from me now? Give it another try?"

"Not really, uh... I was just thinking... You remember the sketch that Angela had drawn of this priest? Nobody was able to recognize him because of the look she had put in his eyes."

She nodded. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I sort of thought about it, too. The truth is, I... I barely paid attention to him, his features. Besides, he's not this kind of person, you know... with something which strikes you. He wasn't exactly good-looking, he wasn't ugly either. He was... plain. Someone who blends in easily with the crowd, who's so insignificant you don't really notice him. I understand what was bothering me now. Angela drew him with madness and harshness in his eyes. I think she was influenced by her emotions, and so was I. He wasn't acting with violence or anger. He took his time, did everything very carefully, never stopped talking to me. It was as if he was trying to justify himself, and reassure me. He told me that he was here to help, that I didn't have to be afraid. His voice was soft, almost shy. His movements were steady and yet I knew he was nervous. When the phone rang for the first time, he stopped what he was doing and left me for a moment. But when he came back, he kept on talking to me, apologized for hurting me. I think he was finished when the phone rang again. He would have stayed longer but he feared that someone would come in and see him. He's not seeking for revenge or to satisfy violent urges. He truly believes that he's doing something right, that he's helping. And at the same time, he knows he'd be in trouble if he was discovered."

She had been talking with the detached, unconcerned voice she used when she was examining remains. Booth moistened his lips. This woman was really amazing. He still found it difficult to talk about his past as a sniper and she was able to tell him what this sicko had made her go through a few hours ago, leaving out any emotion. He doubted that it was easy for her, though, and damned himself for having to subject her to this.

"Don't look at me like that Booth, I've been working on this case and I'm still on it, okay?"

He realised that his hand had closed around her fingers. He contemplated it absently for a moment.

"Booth? You okay?"

The sound of her voice brought him back to reality, nearly startling him. "Yeah. Sure. So... Do you have any idea of how he picks his victims?"

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't choose these women at random." Booth noted that she no longer used the first person, meaning she subconsciously excluded herself from the victim's list. "He chooses them because he thinks they need his help. It's not really about their vulnerability; he thinks they have no reason to live but are too afraid to end their life by themselves. He says he knows what they are going through. I think we're looking for someone with a distressed past and most likely with suicidal tendencies. In his social life, I think he's a nice, helpful person. Someone who's easily trusted. Incidentally, he's not confident. I'm pretty sure he doesn't have a prestigious job. But these women, he knew them very well. One way or another, they drew his attention, and he had time to observe them, if not talk to them. They could be neighbours, colleagues. Or maybe he met them because of his job."

Amazing. There was no other word. "Bones, you know... I'm sorry I said psychology wasn't your thing. You definitely helped us a lot."

She smiled slightly. "I'm trying to learn from you."

Smiling back, he couldn't help reaching out and tucking a curl of her hair behind her ear. "I'll find him", he whispered with a mix of sadness and determination. "I promise you I will." As he pulled away, his fingers slightly brushed her cheek. None of them could pretend they hadn't felt this and Brennan quickly looked away. Booth stood up, about to leave, when he heard her let out a sigh.

"I want to live."

She turned her gaze back to him and he leaned closer to her again, squeezing her hand. "Hey Bones, I'm here okay? I'll never let anything happen to you again."

He was surprised to hear her laugh. "Uh… Have I just said something wrong?" he asked, frowning.

"I didn't say 'I wanna live', Booth. I said 'I wanna leave' this damned hospital", she explained with an amused smile playing on her lips.

Booth chuckled nervously, feeling stupid. "I'll see what I can do to bring you your precious laptop."

Her smile grew wide with gratitude. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Bones", he said before walking towards the door.

"Booth?" He turned around and locked eyes with her. "I knew you'd find me."

At this very moment, he felt the urge to rush to her, take her in his arms, hold her tight and never let her go. But he didn't.

* * *

_**A/N**__**: I promised you'd have fluff someday… But real fluff will come later, just be patient. What kind of torture will Booth use on the sicko? Next chapter will come soon!**_


	12. The last bath

_**A/N**__**: Hey everybody! Thanks again for the reviews, to my beta, to music that always inspires me, to mister Hanson (no, I don't own Bones), to my family who has always supported me, to my boyfriend who's kind enough not to look at what I'm writing when I'm writing (I hate that hehe). And can I say a personal message? I WANT BONES TO BE BACK, I CAN'T WAIT UNTILL THE 25**__**th**_

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**Chapter 12 : The last bath**

* * *

He had taken photos of them all. All of them were pinned on the wall. Not just in a random composition, oh no. They deserved better. Each one had her space. A photo, a candle. Lily, Violet, Azalea, Vanilla, Ginger, Cherry, Lavender, Jasmine, Rose, Orchid. He sometimes lighted one in particular, because he longed for this sent in particular, or needed to think about this girl, in particular. At other times, he lighted them all. And that's what he did this day, although he had a special thought for one of them. Orchid. The last one. Everything had been different with her. But he knew that, more than the others, she needed him to think about her. And it was breaking his heart.

But tonight, he had his mind made-up. The last slashes, the last wounds. It would be over soon.

The last bloodbath. The last time.

* * *

Brennan hung up her phone. Angela felt guilty for leaving her friend alone and she called her almost every two hours. She put the phone down on the table next to her and kept on studying the opened files on her lap. She had had to ask persistently before Booth relented and left her copies of the files concerning the case. She had used everything that had come to mind, that is to say: giving him her best smile first, because she knew how _he_ always managed to obtain what _he_ wanted; then, a demonstration of logic aimed at proving him that she could help and had nothing else to do anyway; after that, plenty of threats, including the 'never-going-into-the-field-with-you-again' one and the 'calling-Cullen-to-explain-him-you-refuse-my-help-even-if-time-is-running-out' terrifying one; and eventually, supplications. And he had given her what she wanted, even if a part of him was pretty sure that she would spend all of her precious energy working on the case instead of getting the rest she needed. And he had been right, because the first night after she had regained consciousness, she hadn't slept at all. And when the nurse had learnt about this the day after, she had scolded her loudly like she would do to a child. Now, Brennan was forced to take sleeping drugs in the evening, and the woman took care she swallowed them, watching her with her arms sternly folded in front of her big chest. At least she could now sleep without having to suffer any nightmares and wake up only when the daylight had already filled the room.

The knock on the door all but startled her. She smiled when she saw Booth with a large grin on his face that was probably linked to whatever it was that was in the heavy bag he was carrying. Trying to figure out what could possibly be in it, she slightly frowned when he delicately put the bag on the table and began opening it.

"What is it?" she asked, curious, stretching her neck to get a better view.

"Well you know, I was driving by your place and I thought about what you said the day before yesterday."

His grin turned into his customary charm smile as he pulled the computer out of the bag and placed it in her lap.

"Thank you Booth! You're saving me." Her eyes were glowing with gratitude. Booth looked at her with a tender smile. Those brilliant eyes... They granted him enough happiness to last an entire week.

"Yesterday, I visited all the hospitals in the region. As the killer uses Miaced, we figured he has an easy access to it, because of his job I guess. Of course, he could also work in a pharmaceutical laboratory... It's like looking for a needle in a haystack..."

"I've been studying the files you left me. I found a possible link between some of the victims. The name of this hospital is Mercy Hospital, right?"

Booth nodded. "Uh uh."

"Louise Simons went here several times from June 2004 to September 2005", she explained as Booth sat down next to her. "Multiple bruises and fractures, such as broken ribs and wrists. Shelly Wald was hospitalized here after her attempt to kill herself in December 2005. Alexandra Nass' husband and daughter were transported to this very place after their car accident in July 2006. And Beth Collins had been working here for approximately one year, before she decided to quit in October 2006. It seems that she had an affair with one of the surgeons."

"How could you possibly know that, it's not in the file", Booth commented, surprised.

"I have a lot of time and I discovered that nurses love chatting. Anyway, that's why I think we should look particularly at the crew of this hospital. Something is bothering me, though. I found no link between Ashley Porter and this hospital. But I think the killer had access to the school, that he was known there. Otherwise, he would have been noticed. And as I doubt he'd quit his job at the hospital to continue stealing Miaced, I think we are..."

"Looking for a man who's got two jobs."

They grinned at each other. They were already finishing each other's sentences.

"Bones, you're a genius!"

"What the hell do you people think you're doing?" Brennan recognized the voice as Betty's, the nurse who looked like Caroline. She walked into the room, her fists on her hips, a stern look stitched on her face. "In case your brains are incapable of reading the home rules I'll be so kind as to illustrate your current situation: you're committing an offence. Visiting hours have been over for almost one hour. So you'd better pretend the bogeyman is coming for you and get that well-shaped ass of yours out of here before I call security."

"Yeah uh... I'm sorry Ma'am but I'm from the FBI and since we're in the middle of a case, we need to..."

"You do whatever you have to do during visiting hours, that is to say, from 10 am to 6 pm."

He stood up and fully turned to her, trying his usually irresistible charm smile on her. "I understand that but I really need to..."

"The rules apply to everybody, including the damned FBI. Besides, your girlfriend, she needs some rest. And obviously she's not getting any as long as you're around. I know I wouldn't in any case."

"Uh, no we're not..."

"We're partners" Brennan quickly finished.

The nurse stared at Booth for a long moment, none of the partners daring to talk. Then, she turned her gaze to Brennan, before letting out a chuckle. "Yeah, and I can dance like Britney Spears." She briefly checked Brennan's IV, then fumbled in a perfect silence that was only broken by her own sigh. "I give you half an hour. And you G-man, learn to read!" She rolled her eyes. "Partners, my ass!" she mumbled to herself as she left the room, slowly shaking her head. "And no stuff in here that you wouldn't want your mom to see!" she added before all but slamming the door, which sparked off the laughter of the agents posted outside.

* * *

He glanced around the room quickly. The clothes were meticulously folded on the chair near the door. He smiled slightly with satisfaction and took the time to revel in the calm of the apartment. He loved it when the silence was only broken by the sound of flowing water. It was so soothing, so relaxing. He hated being interrupted by any other kind of noise. He hated in particular the sound of a phone ringing. That was _so_ annoying. But this time, he knew that he would not be interrupted. He had made sure that he wouldn't.

He immersed his hand in the hot water. The temperature was perfect. It was time now. The last time.

* * *

Brennan fidgeted in her bed. She was more upset and nervous than she let on. She glanced at the clock. 10:13 am. She knew that Booth was talking with his colleagues outside in the corridor. What the hell was he doing? She could hear them, but she could only pick up on a few words or parts of phrases, like 'only one match', 'sketch', 'March' and 'record', which caused her to grow even more anxious. When the door finally opened, she held her breath, waiting for Booth to sit down and speak, which seemed to take an eternity.

"We've got a match. Keith March, 29. He works as a maintenance employee in both this hospital and Saint-Gabriel Prep School. His mother killed herself in 1989, he found her dead, wrists slashed, in her bathtub. Four attempts to kill himself in 1994, 1995, 1997 and 1999. Except for all that, he seems a regular guy with no police record."

It had to be him. All of this was perfectly logical.

"I've got a picture. You ready?" he asked, a worried look stretched across his features.

She nodded vigorously. "Yeah."

He handed her the file. She opened it slowly and stared at the picture for a long moment. "It's him", she announced simply before closing the file.

"We know he's not currently working." He locked eyes with her, their noses almost touching. "We'll catch him, I promise."

Her gaze followed his form as he rushed out of the room. Then, she leaned back in the pillows and fixed her stare on the ceiling, for the only thing she could do was waiting.

* * *

Blood spurted again. Never mind, he was used to it. The pain was nothing. The last slash, the last time. It was almost over. His lips curled into a serene and peaceful smile. The last bath, the last time. The more the blood was pouring, the more his smile was growing wide.

The pain didn't matter. Freedom and relief were close.

* * *

_**Y**__**eah I know what you think, the nurse's speech was SO funny, wasn't it? I was really laughing my ass of myself while writing it. glances at her beta But the Britney Spears's thing was from me!! Thanks again Catherine, you're the best :D**_

_**I promise, as always, I'll update as soon as possible!**_


	13. Wall of death

_**A/N: Here it is, chapter 13, the cursed one! That's why it will be dedicated to nobody lol The truth is, I had difficulties in writing it and I admit it's not the best one. Thanks to you, Catherine, for the little paragraph you added and was brilliant. You know what I'm talking about ;) I love how you always manage to understand what I wanted to say and add a few but powerful sentences that make the difference.**_

* * *

**Chapter 1****3 : Wall of death **

* * *

The siren resounding loudly in the SUV, Booth was travelling at high speed through the dense traffic in the centre of Washington DC. He was trying to concentrate on the road and drive safely rather than thinking about what would come when he got out of his car, but he couldn't help growing nervous. The red lights always stayed that way too long before turning green, the queue of cars always moved too slowly, and the other drivers never reacted quickly enough.

The Tac Team van was following him. Even though they avoided the subject, especially in front of him, he could sense his colleagues' concern. Some of them knew him well, the others had only heard about what had happened. But all were wondering how Booth would react when coming face to face with the man who had almost killed his partner. They were also wondering what they would do in his place. And the answer coming to mind didn't reassure them at all.

The sirens went silent as they approached the sensitive area and the vehicles parked discretely in front of the building.

* * *

'_Kathy kneeled down on the ground...'_

Brennan sat up straight in her bed, her computer in her lap.

10:29.

She had been trying to finish the chapter she had begun earlier, but she had barely managed to write three sentences in fifteen minutes. Again, she realised that she was staring at the screen without really seeing it. Back to reality, she made an effort to focus on Kathy rather than what was bothering her.

'_Kathy kneeled down on the muddy ground to take a better look at the body. She picked up the arm...'_

She couldn't help glancing once more at the clock in the left corner of the screen.

10:30.

She wondered what Booth was doing right now. He had probably arrived...

'_She picked up the arm and turned it carefully_

10:30.

What would he do when he faced the killer?

10:31.

It was just impossible to remain focused when thoughts and scenarios were flying through her head, distracting her from all of her other activities. It took too much energy to concentrate hard on what was in front of her and ignore her mind. She silently scolded herself. _Focus on your story Temperance. Focus. On. Your. Damned. Story. There's nothing you can do but wait. Wait and write. Might as well be productive._

'_Kathy kneeled down on the muddy ground to take a better look at the body. She picked up the arm and turned it carefully, frowning slightly as she focused on the marks...' _

* * *

When he achieved nothing with the warnings and knocks on the door, Booth shot the lock and entered, followed on his heel by the other agents. Holding his gun and flashlight tightly, he stepped carefully into the dark, silent apartment. As far as he could tell, the room was clean and tidy, almost with fussiness. The pillows on the couch were composed in a perfect symmetry. The tables were empty, the books impeccably lined up on the shelves. The floor seemed clean as a whistle. No magazines, food or clothes were lying about. In the kitchen, immaculate, no food or dirty dishes could be seen. It was as if nobody was living in here or time had stopped.

He pushed open the first door his feet had led him to. The bedroom was just like the rest of the apartment. The curtains were drawn, blocking out every light. The bed was well-made, the pillows nicely arranged upon it. Nothing on the floor. He had never seen a place like this. Sick people often lived in creepy cribs, but this... This all but sent shivers up his spine.

"Place is clear", one of the guys announced.

"Yeah, I think he's gone", another one added.

He kept on moving, his attention caught by the pale light emerging from the room behind the door in the back of the room. He felt himself shivering and was slightly shaky, remembering that fateful, awful night.

"Aw, look at that."

"Man, this guy is a real sicko!"

The voices echoed in his head without his mind really noticing them.

"Seems like he killed more than the ones we know about."

He stopped at the door, hesitating, his heart pounding in his chest. A part of him knew she was safe at the hospital, guarded by three agents he knew well and trusted. But another part of him dreaded that when he'd push open the door, he'd find her again in that bone-chilling bloody bath.

"Where's Booth?"

He took a deep breath before opening the door, his gun still aimed at an invisible perpetrator in front of him.

"Booth? Booth! You okay?"

For an instant, he thought that it was her in the tub; that it was happening again. And for a second, his heart stopped, just like then. Soon, he found himself wondering if this was reality or another of these nightmares that had been startling him from his sleep since that dreadful night.

"Right over here!"

Someone came up from behind him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Booth, you okay?" The agent froze, noticing the body in the bathtub. "Oh my…!" The man quickly approached the body, crouched down beside it and placed his finger pads on the jugular vein in the man's neck. After a few seconds, he turned his face and gaze to Booth and shook his head as an answer.

Booth felt frozen, empty. He hadn't expected this. He hadn't anticipated it, hadn't prepared himself for it. It was not fair. It was like attending a trial during which the defendant was made to choose between the life sentence and the death penalty. This man didn't have the right to choose his end.

Without a word, he lowered his arm and put his gun back into its holster on his belt. In the bedroom, the curtains were now opened. He stared through the window for a moment. The pale winter sun was glowing in the light blue sky. He slowly turned around, glancing through the room. All this tidiness made him sick. He'd wanted to toss about the pillows, knock the books off the shelves and crush the lamp on the floor.

But he did not. He knew that it would barely quell his anger, and not undo what had been done. Back in the living room, he simply declared, "He's dead", and, ignoring his colleagues' probing gazes, walked towards the main door, feeling the urge to run away. But as he was making his way through the apartment, a half-opened door caught his attention. It smelled like blown-out candles. One of the agents stepped closer to him, squeezing his arm friendly.

"You shouldn't open that door, man."

"Why?"

"Because it's sort of… it's uh…"

Booth pushed the door wide open without letting him finish. The pictures were pinned on the wall, perfectly lined up. A still smoking candle was under each one. He wasn't able to identify the women in the first pictures. His first victims, probably. But in the next ones, he recognized Louise Simons, Shelly Wald, Alexandra Nass, Ashley Porter, Beth Collins. All the photos had been taken before he'd attacked them. On the street, at a restaurant, in a park. He had stalked them beforehand. All of them were smiling, and yet, their eyes seemed filled with sadness.

His eyes stopped at the last picture. He quickly removed it and pushed it into his pocket. He just couldn't bear seeing her face among these poor women, he refused to let her be part of this group of victims to the same, horrible crime. No, he was taking her with him, removing her from this madman's existence. He would keep her safe now.

* * *

At first, he had grabbed his cell phone and was about to dial her number but he changed his mind. This was something that shouldn't be discussed on the phone. He needed to look straight into her eyes, to share his disappointment with her, and to be there if she needed him to. The elevator doors opened on the second floor of the hospital. He walked past busy nurses and patients in wheelchairs without really seeing them.

When he opened the door, he hadn't decided what he was going to tell her yet. And her glare did not help him. Her fingers hovering above the keyboard, she seemed frozen in this position, the bluish light produced by the laptop opened in front her reflecting a curious glow on her face.

"He's dead", he said simply, quickly, meticulously eyeing her reaction.

She immediately understood that there was something else, something he wasn't telling her.

"What happened?" she inquired, trying to hide the trembling of her voice.

Booth sat down in the chair next to her. "He was already dead when we arrived. He killed himself. Like he did his victims."

She turned her gaze away to hide the tears of disappointment that were beginning to fill her eyes in spite of her sworn stoicism to herself.

"I'm sorry, Temperance."

She closed her laptop and placed it on the table close to her, ignoring the pain that the weight of the computer was causing her wrists and forearms.

"Good", she lied. "At least, it's over now. He will never harm anybody else." Her clear eyes met Booth's chocolate ones. "So, why… Why is that I don't feel relieved?"

"I know what you're feeling, Temperance. I'm feeling the same."

Temperance... He never used her first name, except when she was very upset and he was trying to comfort her. And he had just said it twice. This caused her to burst out sobbing. He wrapped his arms around her and let her cry in his chest, his own eyes full of tears as well. The idea that _he_ was unfair crossed his mind. He had prayed God to let her live, to let her be all right. And there she was in his arms, alive and all right. He softly stroked her hair, though subconsciously. He could feel her warm breath on his neck, her tears wetting his shirt. He could almost hear her heart beating frantically with sadness and disappointment. The man was dead. He wasn't a threat anymore. Yet the both of them felt the killer had won, that he had escaped his sentence. And there was nothing that could be done about it.

God had heard his prayers and given him what he wanted by letting her live. He always did. So how dared he blame Him?

Booth tightened his grip on his partner's form, his lips moving silently. _Thank you._

* * *

_**A/N: **__**The good new now: this time, I didn't publish on chapter but two ;) I hope you'll like chapter 14, I enjoyed writing it much more than this one. **_


	14. Cold sweat

_**A/N : **__**This chapter is dedicated to mumrulz, piratesmiley and Bella1992. Thanks so much for your kind reviews, it means a lot to me. I really hope you'll keep on enjoying the story!**_

* * *

**Chapter ****14 : Cold sweat**

* * *

Brennan unlocked the door of her apartment, amused by Angela's babbling. She had been released from the hospital a couple of hours ago. At last. She was really beginning to get bored stiff. If it were up to her, she'd even go back to work the next day, but she knew that one way or another her friends would force her to go home and rest. At least, she'd be able to keep on working on her book and satisfy her new agent.

"… and milk, and eggs, and I also got you some coffee because I saw you didn't have much left…"

As the door opened, Angela stopped talking and stepped in, sighing.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay at my place for some days, sweetie?" she asked, worried, as she was carrying her friend's bags inside.

"Thanks for all of this Ange, but I'm fine, really. I mean, the killer's dead, what should I be afraid of?"

Angela raised her eyebrows. "If I was in your place, everything would scare me." She glanced at the room, then grimaced and shook her head. "Actually, I think that I'd burn everything and move to another apartment."

Brennan chuckled. "Angela… I've been buried alive by the Gravedigger. Epps entered my apartment, tried to kill me and then fell from my balcony." She shrugged. "I'm not scared", she concluded with a detached voice.

Angela could do nothing but approve of the logical explanation and admire the courage of her friend. How could she be so relaxed after what had happened to her?

"Okay then." She said reluctantly. "I guess there's not much left for me to do now."

Brennan smiled warmly before pulling her friend into a hug. "Thank you, Angela. Thanks for everything. For all that you've done for me and… Thank you."

Angela couldn't help grinning proudly. "I'll phone you tomorrow morning, is that all right?"

"All right."

"And if you need anything, anytime of the day, call me, okay?"

"Sure."

"And be careful with your bandages when you're washing yourself, you know the doctor said that…"

Brennan laughed. "I know that Angela, I know how to take care of myself, I'm 32, I'm not a child!"

"Brennan… Promise me you'll let yourself have some rest."

Brennan shrugged. "Yeah, I promise. See, I think that right now I'm gonna lie down on my couch and…"

Angela raised her right index finger. "I know you, Brennan. I don't want to see you at work until Monday. I mean it."

"I wasn't…"

"And I'll make sure you're staying home, believe me. One way or another."

"I wasn't planning on leaving to Guatemala, you know", Brennan said with an amused smile.

Angela smiled back, biting her lower lip. "Look, I'm sorry, I… I'm worried about you." She hesitated. "You know, I've…" But did not finish and sighed. "I'll talk to you tomorrow." She hugged her friend one last time before walking out of the apartment and closing the door behind her.

She had meant to say 'I've been so afraid that now I need to make sure you're all right all the time'. But she knew her friend well enough to be aware that, purposely or not, she would refuse any help when it came to emotional subjects. It was like a reflex, a protection. Besides, Angela had to admit that she was scared, not only for Brennan, but also for herself. Since that night, everything made her startle, she had nightmares, she had been sleeping at Hodgins' place, and to be honest, she really needed him to lie next to her in the dark.

Although perhaps it was a little paranoid, she knew that all this could have happened to her instead. And that she wouldn't have been as strong as her friend.

* * *

When she opened her eyelids, she noticed the room was plunged in darkness. She rubbed her face. She hadn't meant to sleep that long, she only wanted to close her eyes for a moment. But it felt so good to be back home, so good to lie on her comfortable couch, her head resting on those fluffy pillows. And she had fallen asleep. She sat up and let her eyes adjust to the darkness. She glanced at her watch. Almost 7 pm. Angela had left at about 4. She hadn't realised she was that exhausted.

She switched on the lamp near the couch which she used when reading. It wasn't too bright, so her sleepy eyes didn't get blinded by the light. She got onto her feet and made her way towards the kitchen to serve herself a glass of water. And almost tripped over one of her bags that were left on the floor. The bags. She thought she'd better unpack them before breaking a leg. She grabbed the handle of the sports bag and tried to lift it, but immediately her face contorted with pain. It wasn't heavy, and yet it weighed way too much for her stitched, still aching wrists. She sighed with annoyance, bent over and unzipped the bag. She took the clothes she hadn't worn and began walking towards the bedroom, but soon she wrinkled her nose, realising they smelled like the hospital. "Jeez", she moaned to herself, turning around.

But when she found herself at the entrance of the bathroom, she stopped, her free hand upright in mid-air, as if an invisible wall was sitting in her way. The room was dark but she could make out the tub. She knew that everything had been cleaned; Angela had taken care of that. But in the darkness, she remembered where he had dragged her to, where she had been lying while he was taking off her clothes, where blood had pooled. She could visualise the red water. She realised that her hands and legs were shaking. _Okay, Temperance, calm down, don't be a coward. You know the killer is dead, everything is over, and the bathroom is clean. There's nothing to be afraid of. Absolutely nothing. Now, switch this damned light on and throw these clothes with dirty linen._

She was about to screw up her courage and do it when she heard the knock on the door. She jumped and turned around so abruptly that she let the clothes drop to the floor without even realising it. All the fear she had tried to keep buried inside resurfaced. From where she was, she could see the door. She remained still, gazing at it and trembling all over. _It can't be him. It's not possible. He's dead. He's _dead. She tried to suppress the shudders of her body, tried to persuade herself that she might have dreamt or imagined the noise. But there was another knock, and panic began to take the control over her mind. It was happening again. No, it wasn't possible. Not again. It was a nightmare, she hadn't really woken up. It had to be a nightmare. Although somehow she knew she wasn't asleep.

"Bones? It's me, uh… I know you're at home, I thought I saw the lights on… You'd better be here anyway, because if you're not, Angela will kick your ass. Well… Maybe you're sleeping… Jeez, I really feel stupid, talking to myself like this…"

She felt stupid, too. And relieved.

"Yes I… I'm coming" she managed to utter, making her way through the room with shaking legs. When she reached the door, she looked through the peephole and, reassured to see Booth's face, she unlocked the bolt, her brow still damp with cold sweat.

When the door opened, she could see Booth's smile dropping at the sight of her.

"Bones, what happened?" he asked with a worried look, his voice filled with apprehension.

"Nothing, I was just… I was asleep", she lied.

"You're crying…" he almost whispered. It was not a question, rather a comment.

She slowly moved her still trembling fingers to her cheek, and indeed, found it wet with tears. She wiped them nervously. "I uh… I had a nightmare, not a big deal."

She felt his hand gently closing around her arm, just above the bandage.

"Bones, you're shaking", he said, his eyes trying to catch her shifty gaze.

The heat of his hand warmed up her body, giving her the strength to lock eyes with him and smile. "No, that's okay! I'm fine Booth", she managed to say, hiding in her voice the fear she had felt before. She noticed the box in his other hand. "Wong Foo's?" She successfully changed the subject.

He removed his hand from her arm but his concerned look continued to probe her eyes. "Yeah, I… I wanted to know how you were doing and I figured that maybe you didn't have much food, so…"

"Actually, Angela filled my fridge." She chuckled. "I think that I can eat for a month with everything she brought. But I haven't cooked anything yet and I'm starving", she lied again with a smile, the smell of food making her slightly sick.

"Uh… Can I come in then?" he asked with a polite smile.

She realised that she was still clutching the door handle nervously, standing in his way. "Yeah, sure… sorry", she apologised, inviting him to enter, and she locked the door before sitting on the couch next to him.

* * *

As he was making his way through the corridor, the sound of the door closing behind him made Booth stop and sigh. During the entire evening, he had tried to make her confess that things were not as good as she was trying to persuade him they were. He knew when she was lying. He always did. And he hated that. He had noticed her trembling body, her tears, the thin locks of hair glued to her damp brow. He had seen anguish in her eyes, and felt the shudders of her body. It had taken long before her laugh stopped to sound false and he was pretty sure that she had forced herself to eat. He had proposed to stay with her, sleep on the couch. And in spite of his insistence, she had refused politely, saying she was a big girl who didn't need anybody to chase away the monsters under her bed. So, he had wished her a good night, which he doubted she would have. And then he had left.

Yet, he couldn't help feeling anxious. He wondered whether to go back or not, but he knew her well enough to anticipate her reaction. A few times, she had opened her heart to him, and he had opened his arms to her. But most of the time, she was making sure that her feelings did not show too much. And this night, he was pretty sure that he wouldn't get her to admit anything; that much he knew now. Like she had done this evening, she would keep on acting as if nothing had happened, pretending that things had returned to normal. How the hell could she stay in this apartment? When he had been in front of the door earlier, he had felt a wave of apprehension invading his body, and glancing at the bathroom door had sent a shiver down his spine. How would she possibly be able to sleep in here? No, he couldn't let her sleep in this place.

Again, he was about to turn around and walk back. And again, he stopped himself. She didn't want to talk about what had happened, that was obvious. Yet _he_ needed to. He needed to talk. He had tried to. He had tried to lead the conversation to a more personal subject, but was afraid it was too early for her. He had given her hints, but had only succeeded in lighting in her eyes a glimmer of reluctance mixed with fear. He had made her understand that he would be there, any time, if she needed him. That was all he could do for the moment.

That's why, eventually, he forced himself to climb inside the SUV and headed to his place, longing for rest but knowing that he would find no sleep.

* * *

_**A/N: **__**Please don't hurt me, don't hurt me ! I know you guys are expecting some fluff… But everything happens eventually! You just gotta be ready for this ;)**_


	15. Insomnia

_**A/N : **__**I'm sorry, another angsty chapter. But I promised you that fluff would come, and as a proof, I already wrote part of it in the two next chapters to come. If I give you fluff and it's out of character or all of sudden, you won't appreciate it that much, will you? :P It's like in the show, isn't it? Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy the chapter, and I know I'm asking a lot but please, be patient ;)**_

* * *

**Chapter 15**** : Insomnia**

* * *

Brennan glanced at the clock at the bottom of her computer screen: 7:42. She closed the laptop and headed to the bathroom. It was Monday, the day she had waited for all along the past week. At last, she would be allowed to go back to work. But she didn't felt satisfied or relieved about it. She only felt worn-out. The last days had been a succession of endless sleepless nights which, little by little, burned out all her strength. Even during the day, every single noise made her startle, the ringing of the phone made her jump over her chair and if anyone knocked at her door, her heart skipped a bit. But as long as obscurity invaded the apartment, she totally illogically felt stalked by an indefinable entity hiding in the dark. In the morning, exhausted, she often fell asleep on her desk or her couch as the pale morning light chased her fears with the shadows of the night.

Under the hot shower, she managed to unwind. She closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh, savouring the sensation of the warm water relaxing her muscles one by one. She had gotten rid of her fear of the tub, or at least, she wanted to persuade herself so. There was nothing rational about being scared. She was all right as long as people treated her normally and didn't look at her with pity in their eyes. She hadn't seen many people since she had been released from the hospital, anyway. Angela had come several times, and two days before they had spent the day together and been to the restaurant. Angela's company did her good. She understood her more than anyone, sometimes even more than herself. And above all, she understood her need to act as if nothing had happened. Booth, for his part, couldn't understand that. He didn't really say it out loud, but she could see these glances and hints that meant 'I can read your mind, I know how you're feeling, we should talk about it'. She had already opened a part of her heart to him, a few times. And she had to admit that his friendship and help had been precious. But this time… This time, things were different.

A normal day. She'd come back to work, at last. Everybody would smile at her and say "Welcome back, Dr Brennan!", she would show them that she was just fine, and everything would return to normal. Was it too much to ask for?

* * *

Booth growled with annoyance, slapping nervously the wheel of the SUV. The congestion in the centre in the beginning and end of the day was always a problem. He had an appointment with his boss and if things kept on going like that, he was going to be late. If he was late, Cullen would be pissed off, and he himself wasn't in a good mood. It had been his week-end with Parker and, as much as he always waited eagerly to see his son and cherished the moments with him, this time, he had been miles away. What's more, he had barely slept during the last nights. He didn't know how to handle things with Bones, and it was beginning to undermine him. He wanted to show her that he was there for her, but since the killer had been dead and the case over, she had been acting as if nothing, and he couldn't keep on pretending that nothing wrong had happened. She was _not_ fine. She couldn't be. And neither could he. He needed to talk about that night. And there was only one person he could talk with about it: Bones.

That's why this meeting, this morning, really bothered him. He wondered what this was all about. He hadn't been entrusted a case since his partner had been injured. Bones… He knew she was going back to work this day. As soon as possible, he would head to the Jeffersonian, drag her to her office, close the door and, one way or another, oblige her to listen to what he had to say.

This was definitely going to be a long morning.

* * *

Leaving the door open, Angela stepped out of her friend's office, smiling. They had just returned from the Dinner where they had had lunch with the rest of the team. She had been worried about her, and she couldn't help thinking that it was too early for her to come back to work. But Brennan seemed happy to be back, and that was enough for her. She seemed pretty tired, though. But she'd make sure that her friend would leave early.

Brennan, for her part, took off her coat and threw it carelessly on the couch before sitting at her desk, her smile fading on her face. It was the moment of the day when it became difficult to stay awake. She had already drunk a huge quantity of coffee earlier in the day, but still, she struggled to keep her eyes open. She took a deep breath and shook the mousse, aware of having a lot of work to make up for. She began typing on the keyboard and managed to remain focused on the screen for a dozen of minutes before feeling her eyes burning. She tipped her head back, closing her eyelashes, then took a deep breath and kept on working. When the screen became blurred again, she blinked several times, fighting to keep her eyes open and her head straight. She was beginning to loose the struggle when a knock at the door caused her literally to jump up from her chair.

"Booth…! You scared me…" she said, wondering if he had just seen her falling half-asleep on her desk.

"I'm sorry Bones, I didn't mean to make you startle" he apologized with a slight smile, closing the door behind him.

"Why are you closing the door?" she asked, slightly frowning.

"Bones..." he began, stepping closer "I need to talk with you, do you understand?"

"Yeah, sure. I do understand what talking means."

He cleared his throat. "When I say talk, Bones, I mean talking about serious subject, you understand?"

A shadow of sadness and fear crossed her face. "Yeah, I understand", she almost whispered. "And I think it's a very bad idea."

He leaned over her. "Look, Bones… I know it's difficult for you but… It's important that we do it. And I… I need to, okay? I need to talk about it. Please, I… I just can't pretend everything's all right and I'm not affected by it. I can't do this anymore, I can't stand this anymore."

His face was inches from hers and she could see his deep dark eyes glowing with tears, but it wasn't enough for her to let her walls fall.

"Booth… I don't want to talk about it, okay? And I've got a lot of work to make up for."

"But why, Bones?" he almost squeaked out, hitting the desk with the flat of his hand. "Why the hell do you always refuse to communicate?"

"Because talking about what happened won't change what happened", she retorted in the neutral tone she used when making a logical demonstration.

He rubbed his face. "No, Bones" he admitted, his anger falling a little. "It surely won't change what happened. But it will help us move on."

She let out a sigh, avoiding his gaze. Keeping quiet, she stood up, a folder in her hands, and stepped to the shelves as if she had to put it back. She immediately regretted not having remained sat down on her chair. She felt dizzy and her vision darkened abruptly. _No no no no no. This is not going to happen. _

"Bones, you okay?" Booth said with a worried voice, stepping closer to her, a hand behind her back, just in case.

"Yeah, yeah", she managed to utter, her vision progressively returning to normal "I'm kind of tired, I planned to leave early anyway, but I'd like to have all this stuff finished before I…"

"Bones, stop this with me, okay?" he cut her.

"Stop what?"

He let slip his hand from her back to her arm and gently made her turn around to face him.

"You're not only tired, you were about to pass out."

"What…? No! What are you talking about?"

The look on his face turned from worry to anger.

"You know what really pisses me off? When you're lying to me, because I know you do. You're lying to everyone, even yourself! How dare you decide that nobody and nothing has to be affected? You were not alone there, Bones, believe me. Have you thought about _me_, just for one second? Do you even bother what_ I_ am feeling? What I felt when I found you, when I thought you were dead? Do you realise how terrifying have been the hours I spent in this creepy waiting room, not knowing if you would be going to make it, and not even knowing if I had did the right thing? Do you even understand how it was like not to be sure about how much I should have tightened the tourniquets around your arms, and to wonder if I had acted fast enough?"

He strengthened his grip around her arm and as he forced her to lift it, the sleeve of her jacket slipped down, revealing the bandage that she tried hard to keep hidden.

"How can you pretend everything's fine and we don't need to talk when you're still wearing _this_?" he barked.

She struggled to get rid of his grip, ignoring the pain in her wrist. "Don't touch me, you're hurting me!"

When he let go of her arm, she took a step back, rubbing her arm, and her glare froze him.

"Leave me alone Booth" she said with a cold voice. "Leave me alone now."

She didn't let her eyes go of him until he had walked out of the office, without a word. And only then, she closed the door, collapsed on her chair and burst into sobs, her face hidden in her arms.

* * *

_**A/N: I WANT TO WATCH THE NEW SEASON :'( I can't wait!! Can you? I'm weak, so weak… Two long weeks… sighs Please review and tell me if you find this in character because that's really my point ;)**_


	16. Bitter tears, sweet embrace

_**A/N : **__**This chapter is dedicated to my friend Kezz, aka Skellingtonlover. I don't think I've dedicated one of this story to her yet (sorry I'm hurrying up because my boyfriend's calling me to go to sleep but I'm not sleepy pouts). Kezz, you're one of my favourite authors on this site (please update your stories soon!!) and you're such a kind and sweet girl. hugs you**_

_**And Dina... Dina... You're our Spoiler, News and Videos Goddess. I (we) love you. Catherine, by the way, you can thank her too, because all that i'm sending you comes from her :D**_

_**I hope you'll like this chapter, and most of all... the end ;)**_

* * *

**Chapter 16 : Bitter tears, sweet embrace**

* * *

Booth made his way through the lab, walking as fast as possible, looking straight in front of him and trying to avoid the curious gazes. He guessed that his altercation with Bones had been loud enough for some persons to have heard it. He headed for the parking lot and climbed into the SUV, slamming the door violently. Jeez, this woman was really driving him crazy. Not her, actually, but the way she sometimes managed to remain so distant, so cold.

He fought to put the key in the ignition, his hands slightly shaking with jittery. When he succeeded, he quickly turned on the ignition, for he knew that the only thing that could calm him down and prevent him from punching a wall was driving at high speed on the highway. And this time particularly, he would have to drive very, very fast.

* * *

Brennan's tears ran dry as exhaustion was getting the upper hand on sorrow. Her upper body lying on her desk, her face hidden in her arms, she became aware of how much her eyes were burning and how much her head was aching. She slowly raised her face, wiping the water from her cheeks with her trembling fingers, and stood up, holding onto the desk.

_Good job, Temperance. You can be satisfied. Once again, you won._

She managed to stand straight, blood pounding in her temples.

_He was your friend, he was always there for you, and look at what you've done. You've rejected him as you do with everyone._

She walked over to the couch and lay on her side, her legs half-bended.

_You can complain that everybody leaves you eventually, but the culprit is you. Angela will leave too, eventually, when she's tired of you being selfish and cold._

She closed her eyelashes, the pain in her eyes and head hardly bearable.

_Look at what you've done now, Temperance. Look at what you've done. You idiot._

She felt a lump in her throat and, once again, she found herself fighting back some bitter tears.

_He was right, I never thought of him. He has always been there when I needed a friendly shoulder. I can be so annoying sometimes, and he's always so patient with me… So what's wrong with me? How dared I treat him like that? This time, he won't forgive me, and he'll be right. He won't come back now. He won't come back any more._

* * *

Booth moved onto the right side of the highway, slowed down and let out a deep sigh. After about an hour, the driving had had the effect he expected: he had calmed himself down. Anger and frustration had now given way to guilt and regrets. He felt ashamed of what he had thought earlier. He remembered how terrible he had felt in the harrowing waiting room, how derisory their usual fights were compared to the fear of losing her forever. He remembered having prayed to be able to argue with her again.

God… What had he done? She needed understanding, he had refused to listen to her. She called for comfort, he had shaken her. He had implored the Lord to keep her alive, keep her in his life, and he had ruined everything.

_Look at what you've done now, you idiot. What's wrong with you? She won't forgive you this._

He glanced at the digital clock on the dashboard. She still had to be at the Jeffersonian. Hopefully, she'd accept to listen to him.

* * *

Brennan slowly woke up as a soft hand slightly squeezed her arm.

"Sweetie?" Angela's voice whispered, moving her hand to her friend's head to gently stroke her hair.

"Hey Angela", she answered in a hoarse voice, opening her eyes. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"You should go home, I'll drive you."

Brennan sat up straight, resting her back to the couch. "Thanks, Angela, but I can drive." She pushed back a few unmanageable locks of hair which had fallen over her eyes. "What time is it?"

"Almost four." Angela sat next to her friend, struggling to form words. "Look… I don't know what happened between you and Booth but, if you wanna talk about it…"

"No, I… You know how we argue, sometimes…"

Angela looked her in the face, aware that she was lying. She had heard part of the yelling and this had had nothing to do with the way they usually fought. She opened her mouth to say something but changed her mind. After all, this was none of her business. If Brennan needed her, she knew she'd be there for her, anytime. "If you say so. I still think I should drive you home."

Brennan gave her a half-smile before standing up. "No, I'm all right, really. I have a headache, not a big deal, and I've got to catch up on lost sleep. I'm gonna rest and tomorrow I'll be just fine."

As she got to her feet, Angela couldn't help a worried look stretching across her features, but surrendered. "Okay then. As you wish." She quickly hugged her friend. "Take care of yourself, sweetie. You promised you would."

Brennan hugged her friend back, slightly smiling. "Have you ever seen me leaving at four? I promise you I'll take some medicine and rest for the remainder of the day." She wrapped herself in her coat and grabbed her bag. "I see you tomorrow".

* * *

Booth parked his car and turned off the ignition. He was still struggling to find the right words, those which would make her listen to him. Those which would make her understand and say, "I forgive you". What if she refused to talk to him? What if she made a scene in front of everybody? What if… What if she decided not to work with him ever again?

He ran his hands over his face, torn and nervous, wondering if it wouldn't be preferable to wait for the day after. But a stronger part of him couldn't bear postponing this discussion. He was growing to realise how much he hated falling out with his Bones and, despite how annoying and difficult she could sometimes be, how afraid he was to lose her.

* * *

Brennan made her way through the dark parking lot. She had never been afraid of this place, never. Not even after she had been caught by the gravedigger. But this time, things were different. She caught herself imagining that anybody could be hiding in the dark recesses, and that her still wounded wrists wouldn't allow her to defend herself properly if needed. She had always counted on nobody but herself. And she hated finding herself vulnerable like this.

Suddenly, she turned her head to look behind her, and scolded herself for the only noise sounding in the resonant place was nothing but the sound of her heels clicking on the floor. She fumbled in her purse to find her keys and realised that her hands were trembling slightly. Annoyed by this stupid and yet irrepressible fear, she quickened her pace and opened her car with the control. She had her hand on the handle of the door when strong fingers grasped her shoulders. She spun around, letting out a scream, and found herself wrapped in warm and comforting arms, shaking and sobbing against Booth's chest.

"I'm sorry Bones, I didn't mean to scare you…" he murmured, rubbing her back soothingly. After a moment, he heard her sobs die. "Temperance… I'm so sorry… I shouldn't have talked to you like that, grabbed your arm... I'm sorry I hurt you…" He paused and stopped stroking her back. "I'd understand if you can't forgive me this."

As an answer, Brennan snuggled up even more against him. Her tears had ebbed now, and somehow she thought she should have pulled back. But she was so tired, and it felt so good to let herself get lost in his arms.

With a half-smile, Booth buried his face in her hair and tightened his grip on her. The lead weight in his stomach was gone, now. It felt so good to held her in his arms.

Neither of them could tell how long their embrace lasted, and to be honest, neither of them cared. They remained like this, each one finding comfort in the other's warmness, until Brennan gently moved away, wiping the tears from her eyes as she leaned against the side of her car. The brown eyeliner she had meticulously put on her eyes before leaving the lab had managed to run again, ruining her former attempts to hide her red eyes. But she still looked beautiful, the marks left by the tears melted with eyeliner giving her a childish, fragile look. Booth reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers involuntarily brushing down her cheek as he pulled away.

"You did not hurt me, Booth", she whispered with a slight smile, her clear eyes meeting his dark ones.

It was her way of saying, 'I forgive you'. But this look, this smile… It was enough for him.

"I know I did", she added, with a low, barely audible voice, her smile disappearing as fast as it had come to her lips.

He knew how difficult it might have been for her to utter those four simple words. He brought his finger under her chin and lifted it slightly.

"Listen Bones, hey. Don't say that. You didn't hurt me, okay?" He moved his hand to her left one, gently opening her fingers to take her keys, and pushed the button to lock her car. As he did it, the brushing of their skins made both of them shiver slightly, although neither of them would admit it.

"You're exhausted. I'm gonna drive you back home."

And she did not even protest, for the last thing she wanted was leaving the comfort of his presence.

* * *

_**A/N : Are you ready for fluff? I CAN'T HEAR YOU!! ARE YOU READY FOR FLUFF?? So be patient and wait for chapter 17 :P**_


	17. Shivers in the dark

_**A/N : I'm sorry for the long delay before my update. **__**I'm afraid my beta is very busy with school now, that's why I decided to update this chapter without her corrections and aww... I don't like that but, well, I know that you're waiting so I'll replace it with the corrected one later.**_

_**All right, so ARE YOU READY FOR FLUFF?? YEAH?? GO!**_

* * *

**Chapter 17**** : Shivers in the dark**

* * *

He was pleasantly surprised when she did not even protest. Bones had never been an easy woman, especially concerning her independence. The journey to her place was silent, for they were both tired, lost in their thoughts. Or also maybe because each one feared to break the new-born empathy between them. Booth led his partner to her door and stepped in with her.

"Thank you Booth", she said, after getting rid of her purse and coat and letting out a sigh of exhaustion.

"Hey, you're not gonna get rid of me that easily" he said, taking off his own coat.

"Oh, I'm sorry… You wanna drink a beer or something?"

He smiled tenderly to her. "No Bones, that's not what I meant. What I think is that you shouldn't have gone back to work that early, and that you need a friend to keep you company. So I'm gonna stay with you and make sure you're okay."

"Oh uh… That's very nice of you but I'll be fine" she said, forcing a reassuring smile.

"Look at you, Bones. You're exhausted. I'll stay with you for a while."

"But, Booth, I'm just gonna sleep and I'll b…"

"There's no 'but' Bones, okay?", he interrupted, cutting her off.

She chuckled. "I don't need anybody to tuck me in" She said, almost mockingly. "And I don't…" She fell silent when she noticed the look on his face. A look of deep disappointment mixed with both sadness and exasperation. _Beware, Temperance. Don't do that again or you'll regret it._

Yet, he stepped closer to her and softly put his hands on her arms.

"Temperance… Listen… I won't claim that I know exactly what you're going through, because I'd be lying. But I went through something that's close to it. I know you can get any sleep. That you can never rest because your dreams are filled with unbearable nightmares. You can keep on saying that you're not scared, but I know you are."

As he was talking, he could see that her eyes were beginning to shine with tears.

"Temperance… I'm your friend. Let me help you."

She surrendered and nodded slightly. "All right", she answered in a faint voice.

Booth smiled to her, gently removing his hands from her arms.

"Go to sleep then. I'll be right there if you need me, okay?"

"Okay…" She lowered her eyes almost shyly and turned around, walking slowly to her bedroom. When she reached the door, she stopped for a moment, as if she was hesitating, and then turned again. "Booth…" _Thank you. Come on, Temperance, you know you can say it. Thank you. Thank. You. _"Serve yourself to whatever you want."

* * *

Brennan took off her clothes, then slipped on a tank top and pyjama pants before collapsing on her bed, having no strength left. She didn't even bother closing the curtains. She snuggled up under the sheets and closed her eyes. She knew that Booth was in the room next door, that he would not leave; and it felt so soothing, so safe. So good.

That's why, for the first time since two long weeks of restless nights, she let herself slip in a complete, refreshing sleep, a smile of relief playing on her lips.

* * *

Booth took off his shoes, then grabbed a beer in the fridge before collapsing on the couch, suddenly feeling dead tired. He didn't even bother laying down. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes. He knew he had done the right thing, he could see that she had begun to open to him; and it felt so fulfilling, so rewarding. So right.

That's why, for the first time in two long weeks of anxious thoughts, he let himself believe that things were going to be all right, a smile of contentment stretching across his lips.

* * *

When she opened her eyes, Brennan realised that her headache was gone. The bedroom was now cloaked in darkness, but she wasn't afraid anymore. She stretched her arms and legs before sitting up in her bed. The clock on her nightstand showed 8:12 pm. She got out of her bed and wrapped herself in her blue robe. She walked to the door, her bare feet sinking in the smooth carpet. The apartment sounded completely silent. She wondered whether or not Booth had fallen asleep.

She turned the handle carefully, just in case he was actually sleeping. She stepped in the living room, and found that the place was dark. She couldn't help growing anxious. What if he had left? She glanced around, expecting to see his sleeping form laying on the couch, but instead, she could make up a silhouette standing in front of the window.

"Booth?" she called softly. "Why don't you switch on the light?"

"I sort of prefer standing in the darkness", said a voice which was not Booth's.

Brennan weas struck dumb with shock. As the man slowly turned around, she could see he was wearing a black hood that masked his features. He paced towards her and the more he moved forward, the more she stepped back until she bumped into the wall. As he leaned towards her, she could feel his warm breath and the cold blade of his knife on her neck, sending shudders down her spine. Her reflexes not totally forgotten, she managed to twist his arm and throw him off balance, but when she thought she was getting the upper hand on him, he grabbed her wrists and held them so strongly that she moaned in pain and found herself pinned on the ground.

She let out a shaky breath, tears running from her eyes, when he tightened his grip around her aching wrists.

"Where's Booth?" she uttered in a hoarse voice.

"I'm not sure you wanna know, Temperance."

She knew this voice. She was quite sure she knew it, but was incapable of remembering to whom it belonged.

"Who are you?"

"Your nightmare" the cold voice replied.

* * *

Booth finished his beer thoughtfully. He was worried that his partner was having some kind of disturbed sleep. Ten minutes before, he had heard her tossing and turning and now she had begun to whimper. He sat up and walked to her door, his fingers hesitating as they reached the handle, wondering whether or not he should enter and wake her up. But as she seemed to calm down, he moved back to the couch and lay on it, feeling sleepy in spite of the early hour.

He had began to slip into sleep when the sound of her screaming made him jump to his feet. He rushed to her bedroom and sat next to her, shaking her gently.

* * *

Brennan woke with a start, disoriented, and screamed as she realised that somebody was holding her arms firmly. She struggled, sobbing, before realizing that it was Booth who was leaning on her.

"… a nightmare, Bones! It was just a nightmare, wake up, it's all over now."

She relaxed her muscles and calmed herself down, coming back to reality. "I'm sorry", she apologized, her breath still shaky. "I thought… It was…"

"Yeah, I know…" he whispered, loosening his grip on her arms. "You okay?"

She slightly nodded and brushed away a few locks of hair stuck to her damp brow. "Yeah…" she answered, staring at the ceiling.

"Turn onto your side" Booth said.

"What?"

"Lie on the side."

"Booth…"

"C'mon Bones, according to how loud you were screaming and crying, you had a creepy nightmare. And I told you I would be there if you needed me so, well, here am I."

She finally rotated herself as she was told and she felt him snuggling up comfortingly under the sheets behind her, putting his arm around her waist. She shivered slightly as his breath caressed the nape of her neck. At first, she felt uncomfortable, but soon she surrendered, letting herself go to the warmth of him.

Because, after all, it felt so good, and so right, and the morning would probably come too soon.

* * *

_**A/N : **__**I hope it wasn't filled with mistakes and it didn't disturbed too much the reading... Please tell me, honestly, if it was annoying... And what about the fluff I promised you? Is that okay for you? Don't worry, the story isn't finished yet and you'll have more ;)**_


	18. What partners do

_**A/N : **__**Hey everybody and thanks again for your nice reviews, as always. I think that I lost my poor beta in outer space hopes she's ok So, well, I decided to post this chapter because 1. You deserve it, 2. You want more fluff? Here is more fluff 3. Tomorrow morning I'll be too busy dding (not my fault if we don't have Fox in France) and watching the season premiere. And 4. You know I'm a sadist, and I wanted to let you cogitate on the end for some days mwahahaha.**_

_**PS: a big thank you to Bertie who corrected the mistakes she saw in the previous chapter.**_

* * *

**Chapter 18**** : What partners do**

* * *

When Brennan woke up, the night was still darkening the room. Half asleep, she turned to lie on her back and realised that Booth's arm was still around her body. Noticing his steady breathing, she couldn't help turning her head to the side and looking at him sleeping. It felt so weird, resting like this in the arms of her partner. Not that she had never been in his arms. But this had definitely nothing to do with a guy hug. She struggled hard against herself and finally came with 'friendly hug', which she needed for sure. So she closed her eyelashes again, not afraid anymore of what her dreams could be made of, chasing every thought irrelevant to how comforted and secure she was feeling at the moment.

Booth opened his eyes as the first rays of winter morning light illuminated the room. Hearing the regularity of his partner's breathing, he noted that she was still asleep. He carefully moved his hand to her face and gently brushed a lock of hair that was hiding part of her peaceful features. God. She really needed this rest. And God. She looked so beautiful. He fought against himself to figure out whether or not to wrap her in his arms, and eventually he obliged himself to let his fingers go off of her. It would definitely be too weird if they woke up in the same bed at the same time. He didn't want her to freak out. A lot of things seemed right during the night, which became definitely different as morning came.

So he slipped silently down the bed and, after a last look at her, he stepped quietly out of the room.

* * *

Brennan jumped as the clock rang. Cursing silently, she stopped the annoying sound and sat on the bed, staring at the mark left by Booth's body. God… Had she just spent the night with Booth? Not spent the night like 'spent the night', but still…

A delicious smell of coffee caught her attention, bringing her back to reality and causing her lips to curve in a smile. She got on her feet and wrapped herself in her robe, shivering slightly for the temperature of the room made her miss the warmth of the blankets.

She walked out of the bedroom and saw Booth pouring coffee in mugs, a grin coming to his face as he heard her coming.

"Good morning Bones!" he said with a cheerful voice.

"Hey Booth", she replied with a sleepy look.

"Coffee?"

"Sure" she answered, coming closer and taking a mug on the counter.

"So uh… Did you sleep well?"

"Look Booth… You're not obliged to do all this." she said, moving the mug to her lips.

"Hey Bones, I'm your partner and I'm your friend, right? Helping you going through an ordeal, that's what a partner would do. And hugging you when you're scared, that's what a friend would do. I'm pretty sure that you would do that for me, too."

She stared at him for a moment and glanced around. "And I'm pretty sure you didn't even eat yesterday. I have nothing in my fridge."

He shrugged. "Well, you know, I'd have ordered some take out if I'd been hungry."

She let out a slight sigh. "Why wouldn't you come for dinner tonight, I'd cook you something good."

"Whoa Bones, listen, you don't need to."

She raised her eyebrows and looked at him with a grin. "Mac and Cheese?"

He gave her his best charm smile. "You know I can't resist your Mac and Cheese!" He glanced at his watch. "Need a ride to the lab?"

"Don't worry about that. I'll take a cab. But if you wanna take a shower…"

"No, thanks, but I'm gonna drop by my place anyway. I need to change myself, I can definitely not go to work like that", he said, pointing his finger to his crumpled skirt. "And I'd better hurry or I'll be late." He placed his empty mug in the sink before putting his shoes on. "See you later then"

"Don't be late for Mac and Cheese" she said in a teasing tone.

"I'm never late for Mac and Cheese" he retorted with a grin while grabbing his coat. With a more serious look, he moved close to Brennan and locked eyes with her, placing a protective hand on her arm. "And, Bones… Take care of you, 'kay?" he said lower, gently squeezing her arm, before stepping out and disappearing behind the door.

* * *

Booth cursed silently when he realised that he had been leafing through the papers without really reading them. Had he just slept with Bones the last night? Not slept like... slept... but still... the warmth of her body, the smell of her hair... _Wow wow wow, take it easy buddy, she's your partner. There's this line, and you can't cross it._ But still...

The phone rang, bringing him out of his reverie.

"Booth."

"_Booth, you have an appointment with Doctor Stiles tomorrow, right?"_ Cullen's voice asked.

"That's correct sir."

"_I want you to bring Doctor Brennan with you."_

"Wow, uh, sir, you know, Bones, she's not..."

"_I don't care whether or not she's glad to go out of her lab to see a shrink, she's your partner and I want her to come with you for a psychological evaluation."_

"Yes sir, I understand."

"_Make sure she'll come"_, Cullen added sharply before disconnecting the call.

Booth put the phone down, wondering how he would manage to handle this with her, but at the same time, feeling glad to have an excuse to call her.

* * *

Brennan sighed out loud when she became aware of looking at her desk instead of the screen. She had already a lot of work to make up with the day before, but she hadn't done the half of what she had planned. And now, being so distracted didn't help. _What's the matter with me?_ she thought, wondering why she was unable to concentrate on her work as usual and how came she was interested in what Booth could possibly be doing while she was stuck in her office with a never-ending pile of paperwork. Probably the same boring but necessary tasks, anyway.

The sound of the phone ringing startled her back to reality. "Brennan?" she answered with her usual detached voice.

"_Hey Bones, it's me."_

"Hey Booth... Is everything okay?" she asked, surprised by the tone of his voice.

"_Yeah, l__ook… I've got something to ask you."_

She immediately understood that she was not going to like it. "Uh… Yeah, what is it?"

"_You know, this shrink that I'm seeing…"_

She cut him, her voice changing from a curious to annoyed tone. "Booth, you know what I…"

"_Yeah Bones, I know what you think about psychology, that it's a weak science and…"_

"_Soft_ science, Booth. Soft science", she corrected.

"_Yeah.__ Whatever. Cullen wants you to go with me for a psychological evaluation."_

"Cullen isn't my boss!" she exclaimed.

"_No, but he could split us up if he wanted to."_

He heard a long silence before she talked again. "With Doctor Wyatt?"

"_No, __I've been assigned another shrink."_

"I liked Doctor Wyatt", she said, not even trying to hide the disappointment in her voice.

"_One session Bones, please. Just one session."_

"When?"

"_Tomorrow at 3:00."_

"Booth, I'm not sure…"

"_Please Bones. Please."_

His imploring tone made her give up, but not without a sigh. "Okay then. Tomorrow a 3:00."

When she disconnected the phone, this threatening phrase kept on echoing in her head: 'He could split us up.'

* * *

Booth hung up the phone, a slight smile playing on his lips. He felt relieved that he had obtained her to accept a session with him. He had been thinking about it for some time, anyway, and Cullen's demand had come just at the right time. Besides, he felt comforted to have heard her voice on the phone. It wasn't tired, sad or trembling anymore. His Bones was back.

* * *

"Oh man, it smells so good!" Booth said with a grin on his face as he entered Brennan's apartment, getting rid of his coat. "I could already smell it in the elevator, your neighbours have to be at death's door!"

"Do you want a glass of wine?"

"Sure!" he replied cheerfully, taking a seat as she invited him to.

When she put the plate next to him, he watched her, smiling like a child, and pick up in it, raising his eyes to heaven as if it was some kind of food of the gods.

"This is… Man, there's no word to describe this."

Brennan slightly blushed with the compliment, a beautiful colour flushing to her cheeks.

"Look, Bones, there's... There's something I need to tell you before we go to the shrink together", he said, hesitating.

She raised her gaze to look at him.

"I uh..." He met her eyes. "Doctor Stiles isn't like Doctor Wyatt. I'm pretty sure you're not gonna like him, and to be honest, I don't like him either. But this is an evaluation, so please, will you make an effort to be nice with him and tell him what he wants to hear?"

She shrugged. "Sure. What does he want to hear?"

"That we're ready to work together again."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah."

"Great."

"I mean, that's actually what I want..." She put her fork down. "Wait... You thought that I wasn't able to talk with him without being pushy, didn't you?"

"No, Bones, no... Not at all. That's just."

"You'd better not..."

But none of them finished his phrase, for none of them really wanted to argue with the other at this moment.

The rest of the dinner went great, with them talking and joking all evening long. It was past midnight when Booth sat up.

"Thank you so much Bones, it was…" he grinned. "Unbelievable!"

She smiled back. "It's not much, you know. I can cook other dishes much more complicated than this one."

"I tend to think that the simplest, the better."

She grinned as a response.

"It's kinda late so I guess I should go now... Unless you need anything..."

His concerned glare caused her to grow slightly uncomfortable. "No, I… You know… I'm gonna be all right."

"Look Bones... There's something else I need to tell you before we go to this session tomorrow" he said quickly.

"Yeah, I know. Doctor Stiles isn't Doctor Wyatt and I'll have to be nice with him or our evaluation could be bad", she recited. "You've already told me that earlier, Booth."

"No, I mean yes, but that's not what I wanted to tell you right now."

"Oh", she just said.

"I'm sorry about what I said yesterday, I shouldn't have yelled at you like this..."

"That's okay Booth, I was wrong too, I'm sorry I refused to listen to you. It's just that I... It was too..." she bit her lower lip, visibly struggling to find the right words.

"I know. I shouldn't have asked you this, I should have known it was too early."

He moved even closer to her and brought his finger under her chin, lifting it slightly. "And tomorrow, the session with the shrink… He will probably ask you some questions that may… Never mind. I just wanted you to know that I'm here for you, okay?"

As they were staring intensely into each other's eyes, Booth's fingers left her chin and slipped to her cheek in a caressing touch, before slowly closing the distance between their faces, his mouth hovering over her lips for a few seconds. Before she could realise what happening, he had caught her lips with his own in a soft but delightful kiss. And before she could realise what was happening, he had brusquely moved away, not giving her the chance to return the kiss.

"I… I'm sorry…" he stammered, an embarrassed look stretched on his face. "I don't know what's the matter with me … I see you tomorrow." And he almost rushed out the apartment with the feeling that he had ruined it all, repeatedly treating himself an idiot.

As for Brennan, she remained still, staring at the door as if it was the most unbelievable thing she had seen in her life, and thinking that, definitely, this was _not_ the kind of things that partners did.

* * *

_**A/N : So... Haha Did you like it? Don't worry, there will be more (at least 3 more chapters, I still don't know how I'm going to end chapter 21, and whether or not it will end the story). **_


	19. No good

_**A/N : **__**As you can see I'm not excited anymore… well, yes, I'm still excited but at last I was able to watch this damned (in a good sense hehe) season premiere I've been waiting for SO long :D In your reviews, please tell me what you thought about it, too, if you watched it too!!**_

_**So this chapter, which will deal with the consequences of the kiss and the session with the shrink (it was a difficult one… I hope you'll like it, if you think that I did it wrong please tell me so and what you would have done in my place ), is dedicated to all my lovely friends from . All of them, except those who decided that the season premiere was crap. Lol. Don't do me harm guys, I respect your opinion!! But jeez, we've been waiting for so long and this is only the season premiere, and more that the other seasons premiere, an introduction to season 3 with this unsolved case that disappointed some people but wake up people, if you read spoilers you'd know why! Okay, I stop now :P Good reading.**_

* * *

**Chapter ****19 : No good**

* * *

Booth raised his head when he heard Brennan's heels clicking on the floor. As the sound resounded in the empty waiting room, his heart began to pound faster in his chest. All day long, he had been preparing himself for this moment, but all he managed to do now was giving her an awkward smile. He felt both pretty relieved and cruelly disappointed when he noticed that she had chosen to act as if nothing special was going on. What else could he expect from her, anyway? Wasn't it best to forget and let things return to normal slowly? No, not really. If he was honest with himself, he would admit that he wanted nothing more than holding her in his arms again. She sat next to him, but did not bother beginning a conversation. Jeez, how long would it take before this tension would disappear? Maybe forever... What if she didn't want to work with him anymore? What if she had decided to announce it in presence of the shrink? He dared turning his eyes to her. She seemed absorbed by the magazine she was reading. Man, she was so beautiful when she had that concentrated look. He couldn't decently keep staring at her like this, even so he didn't manage to oblige his eyes to look away.

Brennan pretended to be passionate about the news magazine opened on her lap, but to tell the truth, her thoughts were elsewhere. All day long, she had been torturing her mind about the past night, struggling with herself. She wouldn't admit that she could still taste his lips on hers, feel his soft warm hands on her. She had had no sleep, but wouldn't confess to herself that she couldn't, quite simply, stop thinking of him. She shyly threw him a sideways glance. The kiss had been so good, and this was no good.

When his eyes met hers, he quickly turned away his gaze. Had he planned to do this? No, not really. But had he been wanting it? Yes, definitely. He had never liked the men she went out with, anyway. And when Sully had come into her life, he had understood why. Yet he had resigned himself to do nothing: the line must not be crossed. God, he had even encouraged her to sail away with him, when he knew that one year without her would be totally unbearable. Then, he had been thankful that she finally decided to stay, thankful to be the one who was here for her at this moment. And now,.. Now, he couldn't convince himself that nothing would change after the past night. This was just silence before the storm. God... That was no good.

"Look Bones, about yesterday night..."

_It __wouldn't work, anyway. We're too different_, her clear eyes said.

_That's why we work so well together. But we would argue all day long_, his dark ones added.

_We a__lready argue all day long. And it doesn't stop us from being friends... _

_I feel so stupid, I messed up everything. _

_I feel so lost. Why is it so difficult to act as if nothing's happened? _"Nothing happened." The words had come to her mouth without her consciously deciding it.

_That's it. Nothing happened_, Booth thought. _What the hell else was I expecting?_

_Of cou__rse something happened. He kissed me and I liked it_, Brennan stated silently to herself.

_Would you have returned the kiss had I let you?_ She read in her partner's chocolate eyes.

_Would I have kissed you back if you had let me?_

"Okay. Fine", Booth said, breaking the silence, without breaking eye-contact with her. _What would you say if I told you that I'm dying to do it again?_

_What would you do if I told you how good it was? _"Fine", she repeated, trying to persuade herself that it was the best thing to say.

Booth slightly leaned towards her. "I kinda think that we should not tell the shrink what happened", he said in a low voice, as if the shrink was able to hear them from his office and scold them.

"Okay", she agreed seemingly indifferent.

"Thank you." He straitened in his chair reluctantly, immediately missing the smell of her classy perfume, but not sure he'd be able to have his face so close to hers without catching her lips with his.

Brennan, as for her part, slightly turned her chest to the other side, for she was certain that another look from him would make her surrender.

* * *

Doctor Stiles was a tall, young, blonde, good-looking man, whose fixed 'pleasant' smile seemed never to leave his face. Brennan couldn't help thinking that he was quite the opposite of Doctor Wyatt. Booth had been right: she did not like this at all.

"Doctor Brennan, Agent Booth, please come in", he invited them in with a polite voice.

He gestured for them to sit down in cosy armchairs and he closed the door before seating himself comfortably in front of them.

"Before we start, is there something that either one of you would like to express? A feeling, a statement... a question, maybe?" His eyes stopped on Brennan. "Doctor Brennan?"

She stared at him as if he suffered some sort of mental disorder. "Uh, no. Nothing." She met Booth's gaze which immediately made her remember her promise to be nice to the shrink. "Yes. I want to work again as soon as possible. With my partner."

Doctor Stiles gave her a larger grin. "All right, Doctor Brennan. I assume you are aware that this session will allow me to determine if you two are ready to work together again."

"I don't understand why though. We have been partners for two years, and risks are part of our job. It's not the first time we have to go through something tough."

Booth repressed a moan of frustration. She had begun so well, he'd been so lucky... Man... She really couldn't help it... Obviously, she didn't like their appointed shrink. This was going to be really hard.

"With all due respect, Doctor Brennan, it is my job to establish whether or not you're able to continue doing field work. And according to the way you two were sitting in the waiting room, I would say that you're very uncomfortable around each other. Could either of you explain me why that is?"

Both partners quickly turned their faces to each other, exchanging an embarrassed look, and again, Brennan spoke before Booth could beat her at it. "No, we're good with each other. We were talking, actually."

"Okay, then, I guess neither of you would be bothered by talking about it here, would you?" the shrink asked suggestively.

His annoying honeyed tone caused Brennan to fly off the handle. "Yes, we would be bothered, 'cause this is none of your business!"

"Classified information", Booth added with a look of apology to the therapist before throwing his partner an imploring glance.

While Brennan was having a hard time calming herself down, the shrink shifted his position in his armchair. "I see you're both on the defensive, meaning that -"

"I don't know what you're talking about", Brennan protested, cutting him short. "I always sit the same way, I'm not uncomfortable around Booth, and we did not argue." _Full stop._

Booth tapped his lap nervously. _No, Bones, no. Please. Be kind to the shrink, just for once. Please._

The shrink said nothing but took some notes; his lips still spread in a slight, rigid smile, then he raised his head, nodding in contentment. "Good. Very good." He seemed to think for a moment, before directing his gaze to Booth. "Would you tell us how you're feeling right now, agent Booth?" he asked.

"I uh... I feel like I'm solving, you know, these issues that we discussed the last times."

"Very good. What about you, doctor Brennan?"

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"I'm feeling that I'm wasting my time."

Doctor Stiles ignored her answer. "Have you two taken the time to discuss your feelings and emotions concerning what happened?"

"Not really", Brennan replied quickly.

"What does 'not really' mean? Did you talk about it a little, or not at all?"

"No, we didn't", Booth said.

"Why is that?"

Brennan rolled her eyes. This mocking smile... It was driving her crazy. "Talking about what happened won't change what happened", she retorted more pointedly than she had wanted.

"You're quite right, Doctor Brennan. And at the same time, quite wrong, because avoiding the subject is a huge mistake. But never mind. That's why you two are here, and I'm going to help you to do it. Talk." His smile grew larger, his gaze alternating between her and him. "Doctor Brennan, what would you like to tell your partner about him saving your life?"

Brennan turned her eyes to Booth. "That I knew he would come. We're partners. I would have done the same for him."

"You appear to be an independent and confident woman, Doctor Brennan. I tend to think that you might experience a feeling of imbalance between the both of you, due to the fact that you owe him your life."

"She owes me nothing, doctor", Booth pointed out. Was this man _trying _to imbalance their relationship? The way he was phrasing his sentences she'll start thinking she needs to feel indebted and the awkward tension would only get worse.

"No!" Brennan quickly said in answer to doctor Stiles' suggestion. "I mean, it's not the first time Booth saved me, and I've saved him as well."

Booth approved with a nod. _That's right, Bones. Keep going like this and we'll make it through the hour._

"Yes, sure. But after reading the files attentively, I sort of believe that this situation was different. Your partner had no way of knowing what was happening to you. Am I right?"

"No, I... I knew he would come."

Booth clenched his jaw. _Uh oh. She's getting upset now._

"What made you believe this?"

Brennan threw her partner a quick glance and he recognised the 'can you believe this man'-look, before turning her eyes back to the shrink. "I... I knew it, that's all", she said in a low voice.

"At any moment did you think that maybe you would not make it this time?"

Brennan sat up suddenly, seething. This honeyed tone, these ... these inquisitive eyes, the way he pronounced her name each time he opened his mouth, prying her mind... That was way too much. "Okay, I'm done here. I thought this session was about evaluating our partnership, not about my personal experience with a serial killer and whether or not I thought I would die. I'm not dead! Why is my life suddenly everybody's business? I wish I would just be left alone by you people so I can _do my job_."

She grabbed her coat and purse angrily. Booth sat up and put a soothing hand on her arm in an attempt to stop her from leaving. "Bones, please..." he begged.

"I'm done here", she repeated firmly before stalking out of the room and slamming the door shut behind her.

* * *

Brennan rushed to her car, half-blinded by the tears of rage forming in her eyes. How dared he mention how scared she could have been, thinking that she was going to die? She shivered violently. How dared he try to figure out what she could possibly have been feeling? She cursed him, with his fawning smile and hypocritical look.

Why don't people just leave each other alone? What was it with all this sharing your emotions? This was insulting. As if she couldn't take care of herself. As if she was being punished for almost becoming the victim of a madman serial killer. It wasn't fair; it wasn't just.

And then Booth. Normally she would have considered opening up to him, but since they kissed… Their bodies had come so close that it drove them apart mentally. The silliness of it all was that if it really hadn't meant anything it wouldn't be so big a deal now. This was exactly what she'd feared would happen. Either they would feel set free or they'd get awkward around each other. Look what happened. Although it wasn't rational, sometimes it truly felt like the world was against her.

Her hands were shaking with anger and fear when she put the key in the ignition. She knew she would have better not come.

* * *

Doctor Stiles sank back into his armchair, giving Booth a sorry look, and let out a deep sigh.

"I think your partner isn't ready for this yet, agent Booth. I highly recommend you to convince her to follow therapy."

Booth didn't sit down but turned to the shrink instead, shaking his head, a furious look stitched on his face. "Of course she's not ready, you idiot. What's the point in asking this kind of questions? I'll tell Cullen what I think about your methods."

With that, he left, slamming the door, just like she had done a couple of minutes earlier.

* * *

_**A/N : A big thank you to my lovely Catherine, for her corrections (yay, she's back!! Mwahahaha) and the genius powerful sentences she proposed me to add. Love ya, sweetie, we do a great job together, don't we? **__**winks**_

_**To be honest, I'm struggling to write chapter 21, I just really want to do this one right and I've been writing it 3 times now, lol. But before that, chapter 20 will come soon with more fluff!**_


	20. Wish you were here

_**A/N : **__**Hey everybody. Again, thanks for your reviews, they really make me happy!**_

* * *

**Chapter ****20 : Wish you were here**

* * *

At first, Brennan headed to the lab. She entered the parking lot and stopped the car on her assigned spot. Her fingers closed on the key, turned off the ignition. She turned her head when she heard her cell phone vibrating in her bag on the passenger seat, but did not make a move. Instead, she stared at it until the noise stopped, her right hand still on the ignition, the other one on the wheel. After a few seconds, the phone vibrated once more, indicating it had received a message.

Yet she didn't even bother taking it. Who had phoned didn't really matter at this moment. It had to be Booth, but she didn't want to talk to anybody; didn't want to see anybody. She raised her eyes, directed them to the pedestrian exit of the parking lot. She didn't even want to go there, face her colleagues, work. She couldn't. And she didn't want to go home either.

Her hand hesitated on the key, her gaze fixed on the dashboard. And finally, she switched on the ignition and drove out of the parking lot.

* * *

"Bones, look, I know you're upset, I'm sorry about that, and you know what, I'm pissed off too. I'm on my way to talk to Cullen. Just call me when... Please call me back, okay?"

Booth hung up his cell phone, sighing. He knew that it was unlikely for her to call him back. Bones never asked for anybody's help, not even his. Besides, he figured that maybe she needed some time alone. That's why, even though he wanted nothing more than meeting her and taking her in his arms, he obliged himself to wait, and drove towards the Hoover Building.

* * *

The air was frozen; the wind chilling. Brennan tightened her arms around herself, trying to keep her bare hands warm. She made her way along the path which crossed the cemetery, her feet knowing exactly where to take her. She was shivering, and not only from the cold. She walked past an old woman who was arranging flowers on a tomb and she felt slightly upset not to be bringing anything but her anger and her pain.

When she stopped in front of her mother's grave, her arms still wrapped around her waist, she felt tears burning her eyes. One managed to fall and ran down her freezing cheek. She kneeled on the grass, not caring about dirtying her trousers and coat. She moved her hand to the stone, followed the outline of the engraving.

_In Memorium_

_Christine Brennan_

_Beloved mother of Russ and Temperance_

_April 1948 – Dec. 1993_

Her attention was caught by the little silver dolphin left at the foot of the gravestone, half-hidden in the ground. The one her father had left here. It seemed so long ago, now. She took it in her hand, brushed the soil off of it, and contemplated it for a long moment before closing her fingers around it.

"I'm so lost, Mum", she whispered with a shaking voice. "I wish you were here."

* * *

Cullen had not been happy at all to hear what he had to say about Doctor Stiles. But his boss' threats to forbid Brennan to engage in any type of field work if she acted the same way with the new shrink he had assigned them was not what bothered Booth at this moment. Bones still hadn't answered his calls and he had been looking for her for over an hour now. At the lab, where he had left a worried Angela. At her place, where he was certain she was not as her car wasn't in her parking place. At the Diner, which he had checked even though he was convinced he wouldn't find her there. Each time he did not find her, discouragement and apprehension invaded him even more.

_Damn it, Bones_, he thought to himself. _Where are you?_ Irrational as she might have found it, there was a feeling building in his gut that silently told him something could be wrong. Again. She could be in danger. Again. Another psychopath could have decided to take out his wrath on her. Or she had an accident and was now lying on a deserted road somewhere, hurt. The urge to find his partner became overwhelming. It was his responsibility to keep her safe; one he already failed more than once. She had said it herself, she put her faith in him to come and save her. But how would he know if she was in danger? How would he know where to find her? How could he be on time? One way or another, he _had_ to find her. Fast.

And then, it struck him. A last place remained, where he hadn't gone yet.

* * *

She wondered how long she had been there, then decided that it didn't really matter. Her legs hurt but she did not move to stretch them. She didn't want to. She knew she should have gone home. She was chilled to the bone, now, although she didn't shiver anymore. She had, somehow, got used to the cold. She had got used to talking to a gravestone, too. The answers did not come to her, she wasn't expecting that. But she felt relieved to be talking, she felt like she was not alone anymore. She felt understood. It didn't seem weird or ridiculous to her. It seemed natural, right.

She knew she should have taken her phone with her, answered her friends' calls. The day was fading. Booth and Angela had to be worried about her. She opened her hand reluctantly and put the little silver dolphin back at the foot of the tombstone. She slightly smiled to herself. Or, more exactly, to her mother. _Thank you, Mum_, she thought. _I feel much better now. You have no idea._

She slowly got to her feet, wrapping her arms around her for she was shaking again from the cold. Now that she was about to leave, she felt suddenly alone. She still didn't want to go back home. She wished Booth was here. She rubbed her arms and wished that he would be there when she would turn around. For he was able to give her what her mum couldn't: physical warmth and protection, a voice to talk back. And although she didn't believe in God, it felt like Heaven as it appeared He'd heard her, because somehow she knew that the footsteps she was hearing behind her were his.

* * *

When he saw her car parked in front of the entrance of Eternal Spring Memorial Garden, he sighed in relief, and at last, he felt the weight on his heart disappear. He got out of the SUV and entered the cemetery, doing his best to remember the way to Bones' mother's grave. It seemed so long ago, the day he had accompanied her. And at the same time, it seemed like yesterday. It had been her first time here, and she didn't understand the concept of bringing flowers. He had told her to talk to her mum, then he had taken some steps backwards to give her privacy. And she had done it. She had talked to her mum. He had glanced at her. He remembered how beautiful she had been, standing there, the sun playing with the auburn reflects in her hair. She had complained about not getting answers from the stone, so he had explained to her how to get them.

And there she was now, one year later, standing in front of her mother's grave, and talking to her. He could see her in the distance, although the winter dusk had already begun to set in, slowly fading the sunbeams away. He walked towards her, making sure that his steps could be heard, for he didn't want to startle her again. And indeed, she heard them, for she turned around slowly, as if she was expecting him. She seemed chilly, sad, and a little lost, and yet she was smiling to him.

He moved closer and wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back to warm her up. The familiar feel of her body chased away the ominous sensation in his gut and the smell of her hair went straight up to his mind to calm down his panicked thoughts.

"We were worried about you", he whispered.

"I'm sorry", she replied, her head buried in his neck. His warmth was already starting to envelop her and she relished in the feel of his strong arms around her, leaving no-one the chance to tear them apart.

"You're frozen, Bones."

"No. Not anymore."

Booth smiled and tightened his grip around her.

"I'm gonna drive you home."

"What about my car?"

"You'll care about your car tomorrow." Reluctantly, he pulled apart. "We shouldn't stay here or we'll both catch a cold."

And, though reluctantly, she nodded as he put his arm around her shoulders, guiding her to the exit.

* * *

"Cullen assigned us another shrink", Booth said, without turning his eyes from of the road.

Brennan sighed, then smiled, resting her head in her hand, her elbow leaning on the edge of the window.

"I'm sorry for that, Booth, I didn't mean to put you in trouble."

"Look, Bones, this guy, I told him what I think about him, and I told Cullen, too."

"Cullen doesn't like me..."

"Don't say that, Cullen appreciates your professional abilities."

She turned her head and met his gaze.

"Thank you Booth. I thought that maybe you... would be mad at me."

"Mad at you? Woah Bones, listen hey, Stiles shouldn't have asked you those questions. I would have reacted the same way in your place."

He paused. "I thought that _you _would be mad at _me_."

They both laughed as the SUV stopped in the parking garage of her apartment building. Booth got out of the car and she did the same, a grateful light glowing in her eyes. Although they were both quite tired, they climbed the stairs together leading to the second floor, pretty much out of habit for Brennan rarely used the elevator.

Once inside, they both let themselves flop down on the couch.

"Want a beer?" Brennan proposed, turning her head to her partner -and friend.

"No, I'm okay, thanks. I'm so cold I wouldn't be able to really appreciate it", he replied with a smile. They continued staring at each other for a long moment. Maybe too long, because Booth suddenly got to his feet, apparently uncomfortable.

"But I wouldn't say no to a cup of coffee. Don't get up, I'll make it."

He came back a few minutes afterwards with two cups of hot, good-smelling coffee.

"So... You talked to your mother, right?"

"Yeah, I... I think I'm getting used to it."

She carefully sipped the warm, soothing liquid.

"Talking to people who can't hear you because they are dead?" he asked with a mischievous smile.

"Yeah. That kind of thing", she said, returning a smile.

Booth put his empty cup on the table, a more serious look replacing the former teasing one. As he did that, his arm brushed hers.

"I think I should go now", he declared, getting to his feet. She followed him to the door, arms crossed in front of her chest. Obviously, awkwardness had set between them, taking advantage of their silences, using every single touch to remind them of what couldn't be undone.

Before leaving, he turned to her and softly rested his hand on her shoulder. She could see concern in his eyes, slight embarrassment, too. And there was something else, something indefinable that made his gaze gentle and tender.

"Bones, listen. I don't want you to think that I want to rush you, or anything like that. But if you wanna talk, need to talk, need anything, I'll be right here, okay? I just wanted you to know that."

She nodded with a slight smile, suddenly feeling ill-at-ease by his face being merely an inch from hers. "Okay", was all she managed to utter. His fingers briefly slid along her arm, sending shivers down her spine. Time seemed to stop as she inhaled the fresh and woody scent of his aftershave, as she felt his breath caress her face, reminding her of the feel of his fingers on her cheek. For a couple of seconds, she thought that he would kiss her again, and she wondered if his mouth tasted as good as his lips.

But time suddenly started to flow again. He removed his hand from hers, and when he left, she did nothing to stop him.

* * *

_**A/N : **__**Yeah I know, you're waiting for chapter 21!! I'm having a hard time finishing it properly, I just don't wanna mess it all so, please, be patient :)**_


	21. Scars

_**A/N : **__**Sorry, I know it was long... Yeah I love you too lol. But here it is, chapter 21 :D **_

* * *

**Chapter ****21 : Scars**

* * *

Brennan jumped into a taxi and quickly told the driver the address of her destination. He was right. Booth was right. She wouldn't be able to move on unless she talked about it. Never. She had to do it. Now. Even if it was late and dark and so cold outside. Because she knew that if she didn't go through with this now, she would never find the courage to do it again.

As the streets were extending before her eyes, she suddenly felt as if she was a child again. The blurred faces of the passersby wrapped in their warm coats, the colourful lights of the shops and cars... For an instant, she thought that she was ten, that her father sat behind the wheel chatting with her mother, and that her brother was sitting beside her. It felt as though for as long as she was staring out the window nothing would wake her mind from her dream. But soon she turned her gaze away. The seat beside her was empty, and the man who was driving wasn't her father.

"Let me out here, please", she said when they reached the corner of the street.

The taxi driver obeyed and stopped. She handed him a twenty-dollar bill and told him to keep the change before getting out of the car.

The street was peaceful and quiet. Most of the windows were dark at this time of night. She walked towards his house, taking her time, as if to postpone a moment that scared her. But this moment was necessary, unavoidable.

When she reached his door, she raised her arm to knock, then stopped, her palm touching the cold surface of the wood. The frost was biting, freezing her easily through the thin clothes she was wearing. Yet, she remained still during long seconds, minutes maybe, staring at the door without really looking at it, for she really needed a moment to screw up her courage and knock.

* * *

When he saw her, standing there in the cold darkness with only her shirt and jeans on, the wind softly brushing some loose strands of hair over her cheek and the moonlight reflecting in her eyes, the first thought that crossed his mind was how naturally gorgeous she was. As their gazes met, he noticed something new in her eyes. A mix of fear and determination.

"Bones..."

"Hi Booth." Her shaky voice and chattering teeth made him realise that she was wearing nothing but some thin clothes.

"Bones, whoa, are you crazy? You wanna catch pneumonia?" he softly scolded her and quickly stepped aside to let her in.

"Actually, I won't catch pneumonia by..." she interrupted herself and stepped in as he invited her to, feeling stupid for this was obviously a rhetorical question.

"Come in, I'm gonna find you something to put on. It's like twenty degrees out there. Even kids know they ought to wear a jacket", he huffed disbelievingly.

She assumed he had meant twenty degrees Fahrenheit and sat down on the couch as he disappeared into the hall. While she was waiting for him to come back, she realised that the sleeves of her shirt were revealing the scars on her forearms and wrists. She hadn't exposed them to anyone since the bandages had been taken off. Her fingers slowly followed the marks, trying to get used to them being there. Somehow, it felt like they were her connection to the killer, as if he was still controlling part of her.

When Booth returned a couple of minutes later, the sound of his steps startled her and she quickly pressed her forearms to her body. He sat next to her, handing her one of his warmer sweaters.

"Put this on, okay? I wouldn't want you to catch a cold, although maybe it's already too late", he said with a concerned look.

She turned her forearms away from their protection from Booth's eyes to put the sweater on and raised her gaze when she felt his hand on hers. She realised that he could see them. Her scars. And it was as if her mind and emotions were exposed to him. As though she was sitting naked in front of him, but worse.

He knew it would humiliate her if he looked at her scars curiously, that's why he didn't avert his eyes from hers. He knew she was uncomfortable when she started to look away, but then she decided to allow her gaze to meet his again and she blinked a few times, indicating she had given up bracing herself for his reaction. He slowly took her outstretched hands and pulled them towards him before letting his fingers follow the marks.

_What are you doing?_ Her eyes seemed to say at first, but soon they widened a bit as an unexpected sensation filled her. It was like Booth's gentle touch removed the remnants of the killer's hands on her. A shaky sigh escaped her; she hadn't held it back. She was so tired of holding back.

After a moment he slowly shifted his gaze to her forearms and she watched him looking at them. She was at ease now, relaxed. And as he noticed this, he released her arms.

"What did you do?" she asked in a low voice, thoughtfully rubbing her wrists.

"You tell me", he smiled and she turned her gaze up to him, smiling back.

"You saved me", she replied sincerely.

As an awkward silence was setting in, she finally pulled the sweater over her head with a grateful smile. The softness of the cloth immediately warmed her up.

"Thank you, Booth."

It smelt like him. A deep, soothing, reassuring smell.

"You want me to make some coffee?"

"No, thank you, it's… I'm okay…" She only wanted him to stay put beside her now. And to listen to her.

She somehow felt that he knew and understood, for his eyes seemed to tell her that he was listening, encouraging her to begin.

"When I felt…", she began before taking a deep breath and carrying on, "When I felt the needle in my neck, I tried to turn around and fight, you know. But instead… I fell to the floor… and I understood that it was over. There was nothing I could do; the drug was already in my blood stream. He pulled me across the apartment, I was perfectly aware of what was going to happen next. I don't know what's worse, knowing or not knowing…"

Her voice was low and slightly shaky, yet her tone was even, as if she was trying to banish all emotion. He could see that her eyes were dry, but she was staring into space, somewhere behind him.

"I remember the sound of the water flowing. I dreaded the moment it would stop, because…" She quickly met his eyes as she felt his palm covering her hand. "Because I knew what it meant."

She paused, averting her gaze.

"Then he undressed me. He did it very slowly, talking a lot to me, as if trying to reassure me, which was totally absurd. And then, the sound stopped. He lifted me. I could feel his arms trembling with effort; he was not very strong; I could have taken the upper hand on him if I hadn't been paralysed… Anyway, he made sure not to hurt me when he lowered me into the tub. The water wasn't too cold, or too hot. It was… in some sense, it was perfect."

She shivered, remembering the voice of the man. She lowered her gaze to her lap, feeling uncomfortable to tell all this while looking him in the eye. He was rubbing her hand comfortingly with his thumb, now.

"And then… Then you called. And it freaked him out. He left me alone in the bathroom. I heard the first part of your message. You believed that I was mad at you, but our fight seemed so stupid then." She paused and searched for a way to explain what she was going to say next.

"I… I slipped under water. And I wasn't able to hear the end. Until then, I was sort of hoping that you'd come and, you know, kick open the door, fight the bad guy, pull me out of that- that hell I suppose you would call it… as you always do… But I knew it was too late. You had as much control over the situation as I had. None. There were no signs for you to indicate I needed you to come."

She swallowed. Why was it so hard to tell him the next part? Perhaps because she didn't want him to know that she'd given up. Yes, he would think that she'd given up on him, though that wasn't the case. Logic had told her there was no way for him to know what was happening to her and she was going to die by the killer's hand. How could she explain that she had nearly committed suicide just to grasp the only control she had over her life at that point?

"So then I began inhaling water. It was all I could do. Nothing really mattered anymore, because I only wanted everything to be over."

Booth swallowed slowly, a lump in his throat. She was stronger than he'd ever imagined. Would he have the courage to take matters in his own hands and choose for himself how and when he would die instead of letting someone else, someone he disgusted, decide how and when it would be over? He honestly didn't know. He fought the urge to hold her in his arms, for it was really important that he let her carry on.

"When I felt his hands grabbing me, I sort of thought it was you…"

She let out a shaky breath and when a tear ran down her cheek, she stopped it with her finger.

"… even though I was aware that it was impossible. I started to breathe. But it was his voice again, and his creepy menthol breath." She felt his fingers giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"When he cut my wrists, it was very painful, you know. But it was nothing compared to the moment he left me alone in the silence and the dark. I don't know for how long I stayed in there. I felt so scared… So lonely… Soon, everything became blurred and vague. I remember your voice…"

She sniffed and wiped the moisture from her eyes.

"… although at the time, I thought that my mind was playing tricks to me. When I woke up at the hospital, I thought I was probably dreaming again, that it wasn't reality, that it couldn't be true. And still, when I fall asleep and open my eyes in the morning, I… I sometimes think that I'm imagining reality again, you know? That I'm not really in my bed…"

Her voice broke. Another tear slid down her cheek and dropped onto Booth's hand. He leaned towards her and moved his free hand to her face, gently wiping her cheeks.

"Thank you, Temperance", he whispered. "I know how difficult this must have been."

He guided her head to his chest and stroked her hair. She welcomed the comfort by snuggling up against him, trying to make herself as small as possible so his arms could wrap around her entirely. Then he started speaking, and she heard the emotion behind his words through his chest.

"You know, I decided to go to your place because I couldn't stand it any longer. When I found your door open, I had this feeling that something was really wrong. And when I noticed the clothes folded on your couch, I knew where to go and… and what I was going to find there. When I saw you, I thought you were dead. That it was over. Your blood was everywhere and your face was just- so pale and your eyes were closed. After I stopped the bleeding I lifted you out of the water, you were cold as ice. It seemed like it wasn't you. Like that body wasn't yours anymore. I thought you were gone."

He paused but continued to caress her hair soothingly, as if this was harder for her than for him. For a moment he reeled in the feel of her proximity and sighed in relief. No, she wasn't gone. She was right here. He dipped his head so that his chin was resting on her head. This way he could smell her. Her breathing, her slight movements, her scent… it really was her, safely back in her body.

"And when I was at the hospital, waiting to be told whether you were going to make it, I thought that I had driven too slowly to get to your place, that I had hesitated too much at the door, that I hadn't acted fast enough, that I hadn't done what I ought to keep you safe…"

He paused for some seconds to moisten his lips.

"I thought about all the good moments we'd had. About how good it feels to be your partner and friend. About how stupid our fights are. And how stupid had been this fight, in particular. I thought about all that I hadn't got the chance to tell you."

He swallowed and she looked sincerely in his eyes, letting it dawn upon her how awful it had been for him, as well. Had the tables been turned, she knew the feeling of failed responsibility would have stabbed her in the heart.

"I thought about what the hell I would do if I didn't get you back. And now…"

He placed his hands on each side of her face, tucking her hair behind each ears, and rested his forehead on hers. Brennan closed her eyes, holding her breath unconsciously.

"Now I can't ignore what I thought at that moment, what I felt was left unsaid, undone."

His lips curved into a slight smile and her eyebrows arched a little.

"I know you'll probably kick my ass for this but…"

But when she felt his lips brush against hers, she didn't think about kicking his ass at all. She wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, caressing his hair as his hands were sliding along her back, holding her tight against his warm body.

In this kiss, they placed all the denial, all the repressed feelings, all that they had gone through. The awkwardness was gone. Hesitations, too. There were no questions anymore, no doubts. Only one certainty: this was probably madness, but it was not a mistake.

* * *

_**A/N : This time I've made up my mind on how to conclude the story, so I can already announce you that, if nothing changes, there will be 2 more chapters.**__** What? When? Uh... As soon as possible? lol**_


	22. The morning after

_**A/N : **__**Week without Bones... Oh my god I'm so sad and angry, I hate baseball !! Again, many thanks for your reviews, you're all so kind! I love you all.**_

_**Catherine, thanks again for the time you spend to beta my chapters, and for the part you added in this one which is brilliant as always. One day, we'll have to post this awesome story we've begun writing together!!**_

* * *

**Chapter 22 :**** The morning after**

* * *

She woke up at 6 am, as usual. She woke up before the alarm clock rang, every single morning. But the day that was beginning wasn't a usual day. She looked at the man sleeping beside her, his arm still around her waist. Her partner. He seemed so peaceful, so happy. Was it really a smile that was slightly stretched across his lips? So many different feelings were coursing through her. Feelings about the past night. About what had happened between them and couldn't be undone. About what it meant to her. About what it would probably mean to him. About what possibly was going to happen next.

She had surrendered for one night. She had let her barriers fall. She had been weak.

"_What's happening to us?"_ She remembered having asked. But with his kisses, he had forced her to silence, and under his caresses, she had stopped thinking. She could have told herself that this night hadn't been much different from all the other nights spent with her former lovers. But she would have been lying to herself. First of all, because he was her partner and they worked together. Then, most importantly, he was her friend. And to finish, because, to tell the truth, this night had been the most delightful night she had ever had. She had let herself go like she had never done before; she had got emotionally involved, which she never allowed herself to. She didn't remember ever having felt so good with someone. And paradoxically, that was precisely what scared her now. There were too many complications, there was too much at stake. It terrified her.

Morning had come, making everything seem so different. They had crossed the line, they had gone too far. _She_ had let him go too far. But she could still run away, if she wanted to. Did she want to? She suppressed a sigh, her eyes reluctant to avert from his sleeping face. No, she didn't. And this was another fact that all but made her panic.

She fought the urge to brush his cheek with the back of her fingers, and instead she managed to let his arm slide off her waist without waking him up. She grabbed her clothes, still lying on the floor, carefully walked towards the living room and got dressed quickly in the half-light of the early winter morning. She fumbled through her purse, took her cell phone out of it and called a taxi. She was about to open the door and get out of the house when she realised that she didn't have her shoes on. _You idiot. _She glanced around, but didn't see them. _Damn it._ They had to be in the bedroom.

She walked back, doing her best to make as little noise as possible, but she clumsily bumped her bare foot against the leg of the bed and could not suppress a moan of pain, which immediately caused Booth to wake up and turn around, facing her.

"Hey, you're already up..."

He sat straight in bed, rubbing his eyes, and noticed that she had got dressed.

"What's going on?"

She opened her mouth but no sound emerged from it. And when she didn't smile back, he immediately understood that there was something wrong.

"Bones, wait..."

The expression stretched across her face didn't reassure him. Obviously, she was fleeing.

"Wait, where are you going?" He jumped out of the bed, grabbed his jeans from the floor and quickly put them on.

"I'm sorry, my taxi's here, I gotta go to work", she replied, unlocking the door.

"No, wait, why did you call a taxi? I can drive you... there..."

The look in her eyes told him how frightened she was. He knew her well enough to understand what she was going through. He was aware it would probably happen. Only he had somehow hoped that it would not.

He put a soft hand on her arm, not to hold her back, but to beg her to stay.

"Temperance... Please..."

"I gotta go", she simply retorted in a shaking voice, leaving him puzzled and powerless on the doorstep.

The frozen air outside bit in his face. He had an internal struggle before deciding whether or not it was a good idea to catch up with her. But he didn't want to fight with her; he didn't want to rush her. So he let her go, his eyes fixed on the taxi until it turned and disappeared around the corner of the street.

* * *

Her heart was pounding hard in her chest as the taxi rode through the still dark and empty streets of DC. What had she done? She knew that running away wasn't a solution, but it was the only way out she had found at the moment.

"Hey! Is everything all right?"

The voice of the taxi driver brought her back to reality.

"Jeffersonian Institute, that was the destination, wasn't it?" the man said, shifting in his seat to turn to her.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry", she mumbled.

She paid him and got out of the car, entered the building, jogged up the steps leading onto the skywalk, shut herself off in her office and immediately buried herself in her work to divert her mind from her thoughts.

* * *

Booth had been thinking for over an hour; sitting on his bed with his head in his hands, first, and then lying on it with his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He wanted to do the right thing. He had already been about to lose her forever, he couldn't think of losing her again. No, not now. Not even this way. Never.

He had finally taken a shower, which had proved to be less relaxing than expected, and he had made for the Hoover Building. But when, in the middle of the morning, he decided that he couldn't stand it any longer, he threw aside the papers on his desk and grabbed his coat.

* * *

It was nine when Angela knocked on the door, still clad in her coat, and a cheerful expression brightening her delicate features, as always.

"Hey, sweetie! How are you today?"

"I'm fine Angela, thanks", she lied, forcing a smile to reassure her friend.

"How did it go with the shrink yesterday?"

"Oh, it... He..." She let out a sigh. One lie was enough. "Well, he was sort of a jerk."

"Really?" asked Angela, now leaning on her friend's desk. "So I guess you didn't see Doctor Wyatt?"

"I wish we did."

"Look, I'm sorry, sweetie, it must have b..." She interrupted herself as something suddenly caught her attention. "Wait... Where were you last night?"

"What? Why?" Brennan asked, pretending she didn't get the hint.

"You're wearing the same clothes as yesterday. You never do that, sweetie. Where have you slept?" she asked again with a grin.

"No-where", Brennan intended to defend herself.

"Oh, c'mon Brennan, you could at least share this with me: your best friend..."

Brennan opened her mouth, a helpless expression stretched on her face, wondering what story she could possibly invent to satisfy her friend or at least gain herself some time, when Zack entered the office, saving her in some sense.

"Good morning Doctor Brennan, I'm sorry to interrupt but there's something you should see."

Brennan couldn't repress a slight smile at the sight of Angela's desperate expression.

"Sorry", she apologised before leaving her office with Zack.

"It's about the body from the civil war", the young assistant began. "I noticed..."

"Don't you think you're off the hook now, Brennan!" Angela called after her with both frustration and amusement. "I'm not finished with you! We'll talk about it later, I swear!"

* * *

The squints all seemed busy, walking quickly in all directions, some of them lost in their thoughts, others concentrated on the papers they were holding in their hands. That is to say, a normal day at the Jeffersonian. Although this day, Booth did not pay much attention to them and their weirdness, for his thoughts were focused on only one of them.

"Hey Booth!" Angela said merrily, greeting him with her usual smile.

"Morning", he mumbled quickly. "Where's Bones?"

"With Zack, in the examination room. By the way, do you know what she..." Her words died on her lips as she saw Booth stalking away towards the said room. "Okay, Booth, never mind..." she said, mainly to herself, before going back to her tasks.

When he burst into the examination room, Zack was the only one who had the curiosity to look up from the skeleton to see who had entered.

"Good morning", the young assistant said in his typical monotonous voice.

"Hey Zack", he greeted back briefly. "Bones, I need to talk to you, can we go to your office?"

She raised her head and stared at him for some seconds before answering. "Sorry, I'm busy right now, as you can see."

"We've got a new case", he tried.

As the words were coming out of his mouth, he knew that they were probably going to cause him problems.

She was aware that he was lying, but she put her instruments down and followed him, not because of his lame excuse, but because she owed him this moment with her. So she let him lead her to her office, his hand resting on the small of her back as he was used to do, although this day it seemed like a more protective gesture.

"Why did you lie?" she asked after he closed the door behind them.

"I'm sorry, that's all I could think of. Why did you leave?"

"I had to go to work." It was her scientific, stating-the-facts tone that she was using. Booth guessed that made it easier for her. An effective way of blocking out her emotions.

"Don't blame me for telling a lie when you do the same some seconds later, Bones. You know it's not true. You know it's not the real reason."

Not expecting her to answer, he moved close to her and put his hands on her upper arms, gently, soothingly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to talk to you that way. I'm just..." His brown eyes softened as they looked at her.

"That's okay. I deserve it."

She managed to look him straight in the eye and Booth found himself mesmerised once again by the expressiveness of her clear blue eyes.

"No, Bones, look, I know you well, you know I understand."

"What happened last night, it should have never happened."

She had said that pretty roughly, as if it had been the most logical thing to say. But probing her eyes, he could tell that she hadn't said what she had been thinking.

"You know it's not true, Temperance. And that's not what I believe."

He slowly moved his right hand to her face to brush his fingers against her cheek, but she moved away from him and his touch.

"I... I can't talk to you right now." He was getting under her skin again. Why and _how_ was he always able to virtually grasp the hand that held her emotions captured between its fingers and open them up not even using force, but gently? This had never happened before and she realised all too well how potentially dangerous this situation could become for her. If she decided to give this a go, and he'd leave, no matter for what reason, she… she couldn't even think of how it would devastate her. But at the same time she wanted… _wanted_ to let him in. Wanted him to explore her completely and share with him every single thought, every single feeling. She wanted to go home after work together, to cuddle on the couch and kiss the skin on his chest that smelt so much like him… and she wanted him to kiss her forehead, her cheeks, her lips… To argue one moment and quietly drown in each other's eyes the next… It would be perfect. But dangerous. Way too dangerous.

So she nervously walked towards the door, but before she opened it, she slightly turned around to look at him, and he could see her eyes were filled with tears. He wished he was able to read them. He was about to take a step closer to her, but stopped himself. He had promised himself not to rush her.

"I gotta go... I've got work."

She bit her lower lip, obviously struggling as much as he, and opened the door, turning her back to him.

"I love you, Temperance."

He hadn't been able to hold these words back. But they hadn't been enough to hold her back.

* * *

_**A/N : I'm sorry to have to say that next chapter will be the last one. It's already written, waiting for beta, so it shouldn't be very long. But the good news are, I've already begun another multichapter, and I hope you'll like it. It's about a case, too, but a really different one. I was thinking of what 'spoilers' I could give you... well... the case is about children, there will be angst and fluff and BB comfort, what's more, there will be Parker fluff, and... okay that enough for now!!**_


	23. The balance

_**A/N : **__**Okay, so prepare yourselves for the last chapter, yay! I hope that you'll be happy with the end!**_

* * *

**Chapter 23**** : The balance**

* * *

She couldn't believe what she had just overheard. She just couldn't believe it. She hadn't meant to eavesdrop; she was only passing through the corridor. But it seemed that Angela had always had a sixth sense for this kind of things. That's why, when she saw the handle of her friend's office door turning slowly, she unconsciously stopped and pricked up her ears. Perhaps she was sort of hoping that she'd learn something about what Brennan had done the past night that she didn't want to tell her, which frustrated her and her pathological curiosity intensely.

"I gotta go... I've got work."

The tone of her voice betrayed some kind of coldness, or annoyance maybe. Angela sighed. They had to have been arguing again. Gosh, the entire lab was going to undergo Brennan's bad mood all day long now.

"I love you, Temperance."

_Oh. My. God.__ Oh my God._

She had been far from suspecting that the last night had involved Booth. _What's happening to you, Angela? You should have known it the moment you met Booth's gaze... It must be Hodgin's fault... Yeah... He's distracting me..._

When she saw the door opening, she quickly turned away and lowered her head, pretending to be focused on the papers she was holding. Brennan passed her but apparently she didn't even notice her. God. She was terrified. Nothing surprising about that. She turned her gaze to the door where Booth was standing, his heartbroken look and slumped shoulders giving away how miserable and powerless he was feeling. Their eyes briefly met, and she knew he immediately understood she had heard everything.

That's why, feeling invested with an important mission, she began by throwing him her don't-worry-I-will-handle-it look before catching up with her friend, her heels clicking loudly on the floor.

"Brennan? Brennan!"

As the yelling didn't seem to work, she tried to catch her attention by placing a firm hand on her shoulder.

The anthropologist turned her head, visibly annoyed. "What, Angela?"

Aw. This wasn't going to be easy.

"Sweetie, I need you to go back to your office."

"Why?"

"Just do what I'm telling you."

"Angela, I've got work and Zack is waiting for me. What do you want?"

"I want to talk."

"About wh..." Brennan briefly closed her eyes and sighed. "All right. What did you hear?"

Angela had a hard time keeping herself from grinning from ear to ear.

"Everything."

"Look, Angela, I don't wanna talk about that", Brennan said, quickening her pace.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Angela squealed, following her friend. "You're making a mistake, sweetie. A huge one."

"This is none of your business."

"We're friends. You're my best friend in the whole world. It _is_ my business."

Brennan stopped and gave her an irritated glare.

"Leave me alone."

"You don't want the entire Jeffersonian to know about what happened, do you?"

Angela stared at her friend for a moment, appreciating the effect her threat had on her.

"No, I know you don't. So you'd better come with me to your office."

Aware of the fact that she didn't have much of a choice, Brennan followed her friend who cautiously closed the door behind them. If Angela threatened someone, anyone, she was serious and shouldn't be messed with.

"Look, sweetie, I know you're scared but..."

"I'm not scared!" Brennan protested.

"Yes you are", the artist retorted, nodding her head and arching her eyebrows to emphasise her words.

"I'm not!"

"You're scared because you think that eventually all people end up leaving you, as your parents did. That's why you've always refused any serious engagements with men."

"Ange, that's not..."

But she didn't end her sentence, for she knew that her friend was right.

"Sweetie... This is _Booth_ we're talking about. This man is _not _gonna leave you. I don't know what exactly happened between you, but I can figure it out, and I know what I heard. So make sure you won't do anything you'll bitterly regret. I know you love him back. And you know what? He'll be patient enough to give you the time you need to realise it. Don't be afraid to give it a try. Look at Hodgins and me. Remember how confused I was? What if I had refused that first date with him? Everything would be different. Yes, we work together. No, it's not always easy. But it's definitely worth it. Go catch him, sweetie. Don't let him go."

Angela slowly shook her head, reassured to see that her friend was finally listening to her and accepting what was going on.

"Don't let him go."

* * *

Booth entered the parking lot and headed for his car, convinced that he had made a big mistake. He had scared her. Damn it, it had been so mindless of him. But what was done was done. And what was said was said.

When he met Angela's gaze, he had understood that she was going to do everything within her power to fix it. She was good with people, it was her thing. Hopefully, Bones would listen to her. For now, he could do nothing but trust her and go back to work. And cross his fingers, wishing that she'd succeed.

He plunged his hand in the pocket of his jacket to grab the car keys, but froze when he felt something hard pressing against his back. Lost in his thoughts, he hadn't seen the man who was hiding in the dark. He hadn't heard him approaching, either. Usually, the mere fact of a gun being pulled out would have caught his attention, as if he had some kind of subconscious reflex.

But not this time. This time, he hadn't anticipated the menace.

* * *

Angela was right. She was always right when it came to relationships. She had this gift to be able to read people's minds and hearts; hers, in particular. When she herself could barely define what she was feeling, Angela always had the answers. It was sometimes annoying, and she didn't always listen to her friend. Fortunately, by the way, because if she did, she would have been sailing tropical seas with Sully for several months now; not walking down the stairs leading to the parking lot of the Jeffersonian, clutching her cell phone in her left hand, in case Booth had already left the building.

She took a deep breath before pushing open the heavy door, and stepped into the vast, dark place, glancing around.

* * *

"You let him follow through, you... you son of a bitch!" a shaky voice said. "He killed my little girl and you provided him the chance to kill himself!" The voice screamed. "She was all that I had left, you understand that?"

Trained and used to this kind of delicate and high-risk situations, Booth managed to stay calm as the gun was pushed harder against his back.

"Mister Porter, there was nothing we could do to..."

"Shut up!"

"Give me the gun, Mister Porter. You don't really want to do this."

"How dare you pretend that you know what I want? How dare you even think you understand what I'm going through? She was all that I had left, Agent Booth. She was all that I had."

The man let out a sob but did not lower his gun.

"Put your hands on the car."

"Mister Porter, you..."

"Put your hands on the damn car!"

* * *

The shouts startled her. Something was going on in the parking lot. She stopped, afraid that whoever was in there would hear her; for somehow, she had the feeling –this must be intuition- that they'd better not. She made sure the door closed without a sound. She was suddenly invaded by the disturbing feeling that she should have brought her gun. She hesitated, her heartbeat accelerating in her chest. It was too late to go back now.

As she was making her way, as silently as possible, she heard a metallic noise. Something had been thrown onto the floor. She discretely hid behind a green car.

"Now turn around. I said, turn around!"

The voice was hoarse and shaky. Filled with anger and... despair. She tried desperately to recognise it, but the echoing place did not help. The tone was definitely weird. It wasn't a robbery, as she had first thought.

"Don't do something you'd regret."

_Oh my... Oh no..._

As she was slowly moving closer to where she heard the voices were coming from, she began to dial Angela's number, but stopped herself. _No, not Angela. She'd panic. _She finally decided to call Cam. She could see them, now. Booth was leaned against the SUV, a gun being trained on his neck by a man who had his back turned to her.

"There's nothing I can regret, now", the man said with a trembling voice.

At this instant, she understood. Porter.

"_Saroyan_

"It's Brennan", she managed to utter as soundlessly as possible. "I need security guards in the parking lot. Quickly. Crisis situation."

"_Doctor Brennan, what's happen..."_

Brennan hung up the phone and left it on the floor, for she was going to need both of her hands.

* * *

When he caught sight of her, he was relieved, at first. But soon, the feeling was replaced by a more disturbing one; at any moment, the man could become aware of the noise of her steps, panic and shoot her dead. And there was no way he could send her a warning without Porter noticing it.

"Look into my eyes!" the man yelled, pushing the gun harder into his throat, obliging him to tilt his head back. "Look me in the eyes!"

Brennan approached them slowly, taking advantage of the fact that Porter was in an emotional state which prevented him from realising what was going on. She prayed for him to keep on talking.

"This won't bring your daughter back, Mister Porter", Booth said, loud enough to cover the sound of her partner's footsteps. "This won't bring Ashley back."

"Shut up!"

"I've got a son myself. His name is Parker. He's five."

She was almost there. Her legs were shaking. But his finger was on the trigger, what if... No, she couldn't do that. She couldn't risk his life. Her gaze met his, again. He blinked, slowly, as a signal. She had to act now.

The gunshot resounded in the parking lot, making everybody in the Jeffersonian building jump out of their skin.

* * *

Brennan was sitting on the stone steps that led to the garden of the Jeffersonian, a cup of coffee in her hand. She needed to breathe. She needed silence. Porter's hysterical screams, Angela's tears of fear, the wave of panic raised by the sound of the gunshot and the insufferable questions of the security guards... It was too much for her to bear. If they had done their job, nothing would have happened. Fortunately, nobody had been injured. She had been fast enough to surprise Porter, and with Booth's help, she had been able to neutralise him quickly.

Everything was fine. No, not really. She found herself fighting back some tears, attempting to take a deep breath. The last weeks had been harsh, and this day... This day had been the last straw.

She did not move when someone sat beside her and put an arm around her back. She didn't need to.

"If I hadn't let you leave, it wouldn't have happened", she said, bitterly. "Angela told me not to do anything I'd regret. What if I hadn't come?"

"Bones, you had no way of knowing what would happen, okay?"

"You were unfocused because of me, this is what happened."

He pursed his lips.

"Yeah, that's true, I was unfocused. It doesn't mean that it's your fault."

He rubbed her back comfortingly, admiring the beauty of her profile in the pale winter sun.

"So... looks like we're even now", he said, attempting to break the silence.

"Yeah, kind of."

"Kind of?"

She slowly turned her head to look at him, a mischievous smile spreading across her lips.

"You didn't have to perform any martial art movements when you saved my life, did you?" she teased.

"No", Booth replied with a chuckle, "But I had to challenge my medical competencies and I had a hard time not to let myself get distracted by the fact that you had no clothes on", he added before innocently taking a sip of coffee. He was fixing his gaze at the horizon, for he did not dare looking her in the eyes. But he could imagine her expression, and it was enough to make him smirk.

"You did not take the risk of being shot at, then", she retorted quickly.

"You'll never stop until you've got the last word, will you?" he asked, glancing at her.

"Never. You know me."

She put her empty cup down the ground and let her head rest on his shoulder, closing her eyes for a few seconds. It felt so good to allow herself to rely on somebody else. Someone she trusted, someone who made her feel good. Someone... who loved her.

"Yeah, well, you know what? I don't mind."

And the deep feeling that she could spend the eternity with his arms wrapped around her was enough for her to make up her mind. She had to take the risk. It was worth it.

"Wanna know why?" Booth asked, apparently impatient to let her know why suddenly he didn't care about her always having the last word.

She let out an amused laugh. "Why?"

"Because I've got a secret weapon to make sure you keep your arguments for yourself."

She straightened her spine, screwing up her eyes. "What is it?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret weapon anymore."

"Do you intend to use it now?"

He smiled gently. "I don't know. I'm hesitating. I could have my ass kicked by a touchy forensic anthro..."

His voice died out when she closed the space between them and kissed him quickly but tenderly on the lips.

"Jeez Bones, you stole my secret weapon!" he whined, pretending to be bothered.

"What you said earlier... Did you mean it?"

He was startled by the question at first. He moved a hand to her face, his other arm still around her waist. He fixed his eyes on her and looked at her intensely, caressing her cheek, then her hair, and finally caught her lips with his. They both lost themselves in the kiss, until the need for oxygen obliged them to pull apart, out of breath. He rested his forehead to hers, stroking her hair.

"Did I answer your question?"

Brennan let out a contented sigh.

"So... We're back?" she whispered.

He grinned and tightened his grip around her waist, nodding his head.

"We're back."

* * *

_**A/N : I'd like to thank my lovely Catherine who takes time to read and correct me. You know how much I love you, sweetie, I love sharing all this with you, above all, this story we're writing together.**_

_**Then, thank you to my amazing Dina who's my spoiler queen/goddess/ whatever you want, and who makes me happy everyday.**_

_**Lots of love to my wonderful evil morning (sometimes afternoon too) friend Clare, there's so much to say about you so I'll go with "I love you to bits and pieces" and you can imagine the rest **_

_**And to finish, thanks to all those took time to review, I hope I won't forget anyone: mumrulz, piratesmiley, boothissexy (so right !!), LyanaDavid, Greys-Angeles Bella1992 Ronata beaglelvr93 booringpeople Ronataand of course, bertie456, whom writing I so do love.**_

_**I know you're sad because it's finished, but I've already written the first chapter of my new multichapter and I will post it very soon!**_

_**Thanks again for reading.**_


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